


Seeing Blind

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Instant Connection, Lots of kissing, Love, M/M, Smut, and cute dates, everyone's in one direction but harry, golf club, he's sort of famous too, it's really all very cute, niall knows everyone, the lightest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: His phone vibrates in his pocket and Louis checks it, expecting everything but what he actually reads.It’s an air drop message. And here’s what it says:To the boy staring at me from the Bentley Continental, hope this is you.And then there’s a phone number. A fucking phone number. From the very handsome guy in the car behind. Shit.-Harry Styles is a tornado with pretty eyes and a heartbeat, and Louis isn’t even scared of the storm.





	Seeing Blind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missdisaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdisaster/gifts).



> HELLO HELLO HELLO!  
> If you knew how long I've been keeping this fic from you...  
> I'm sorry, haha.
> 
> But here it is. Once again, it is based on a prompt that the amazing @littlesunlou on twitter tagged me (<https://twitter.com/littlesunlou/status/894076534058663936>) and I just couldn't resist. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

 

**_“Oh, my, my you just took me by surprise, and I can’t believe my eyes, oh I must be seeing blind._ **

**_Oh, no I, you’re too good to be all mine. Now I’m looking in your eyes, oh, I must be seeing blind.”_ **

 

 

        So, Louis must be a little late, and no one can blame him, since he really fucking hates golf. He hates golf so much that he can’t believe this is called a _sport_. But he loves Niall, his bandmate, one of his best friends in the entire world. He loves Niall so much that here he is, at The Riviera Country Club in freaking Los Angeles in the middle of July.

        It’s really hot, _too_ hot for his British self, and he takes a deep breath before he opens his car window to give the man in the security cabin his identification card. Niall said he’d left Louis’ name under his own earlier, so all he’d have to do was give him his full name and show the guard his face.

He knows this one of those really fancy, exclusive places that he abhors and constantly picks on his bandmates about, being the only one who stayed somewhat true to his old self, but he also thinks about how this is the first time he’s going to see his friend in over three months, ever since they started their so called hiatus, so Louis plasters a smile on his face as the guy inspects his computer and turns back to him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but your name doesn’t show up on my screen.” He says.

“What?” Louis asks, mouth agape. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding. I’m here with Niall Horan?” He tries again.

The guard sighs.

“Give me a minute to check the information again, sir. I might need to call Mr. Horan himself.”

“All right.” Louis sighs, resigned. “I’mma close the window so I don’t melt while I wait if it’s all the same to you.” He says as an afterthought.

“Be my guest, sir.”

“I’m trying to be”, Louis mumbles as the window goes up. He redirects the air conditioner towards himself again and sags back into his leather seat, checking the rearview mirror to see if his fringe’s still in place.

And that’s when he sees him.

Well, he doesn’t see _all_ of him, but he sees enough. Behind his car, in a Mercedes-Benz G Class, there’s a very attractive, very good looking man, with a white shirt and a stupid bandana wrapped around his head, blocking most of his _most likely_ beautiful hair from Louis’ view.

It’s been a while for Louis. Different from what everyone may think, it’s not particularly easy for him to find someone to date. Even being in a famous boy-band. Even being on the _Top 10_ of _Hottest Bachelors_ of some magazine. Even being _out_. He’s pretty sure the last person he hooked up with was a month or so ago, and it was someone he met at a private club in London.

Louis has never had a proper relationship. Not unless you count his year 10 girlfriend, when he still wasn’t famous and lied about everyone saying he was straight.

Point is: it’s been too long since he’s been attracted to someone. And he’s only seeing this guy through his fucking rearview mirror. So. There’s that.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Louis checks it, expecting everything but what he actually reads.

It’s an _air drop_ message. And here’s what it says:

 ** _To the boy staring at me from the Bentley Continental, hope this is you_.** And then there’s a phone number. A fucking phone number. From the very handsome guy in the car behind. Shit.

Louis accepts it and presses his thumb on the number for a second; he saves it as Bandana Boy at the exact same moment the guard knocks on his window.

“Hey, mate,” Louis says.

“I’m sorry, sir, it was a system failure. We apologize for it, and you can go in now. Mr. Horan is waiting for you at the parking lot so you can go together to the golf course.” The man smiles.

“No problem at all, thank you so much,” the singer smiles and starts the car again.

He goes slower just to see if the Mercedes Benz guy follows him to the parking lot. He doesn’t, takes a different path. Louis frowns, but doesn’t make much of it, seeing as he texts _Bandana Boy_ as soon as he parks.

 **So, I’m sorry for being the weirdo that was staring at you.** He sends; he thinks it’s the right amount of flirty.

Louis waits inside the car. The reply comes barely thirty seconds later.

 ** _It’s alright, wasn’t scared. It helps that you’re cute_. ** And that, ladies and gentlemen, it’s the right amount of cheeky. He likes this boy already. And he definitely doesn’t blush.

**I’m Louis.**

**_Harry_.**

“Yo, fucker. Let’s get going!” Niall screams as he all but punches Louis’ car window with both hands.

“Asshole,” Louis calls him before opening the door. “I hope you know I am accompanying you but I sure as hell ain’t playing this, Niall.” He warns as soon as he steps out of the car.

“Missed you too, LouLou,” his bandmate hugs him tightly. Fuck. Louis missed him too. He doesn’t say it, seeing as he is a bit weird with feelings, but Niall knows.  “Let’s get going then, shall we?” He asks, finally liberating Louis from his embrace.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” Louis follows him, cellphone heavy in his pocket, his hands wanting to reach it but his mind telling him to chill. _Be cool, take it slow,_ he tells himself.

 

-

 

The club is gorgeous. Niall takes him to a bar on a veranda first thing, ordering two club sodas and waiting for the their golf cart to arrive; something about the caddie being late today.

“Why not alcohol, Nialler?” Louis moans.

“Because it’s still ten in the fucking morning, Louis.” Niall laughs.

“Aren’t you Irish people supposed to drink all day and all night and never have a hangover?” He mocks.

“Not when we’re playing golf,” the Irishman snorts.

“Mr. Horan, your caddie is here, sir.” A lovely woman dressed in pastel yellow lets them know.

“Great. Thank you, Rosie. Our table’s reserved for lunch, right?” He checks one more time, and they leave right after she reassures them that yes, their reservation is confirmed.

They go down the stairs again and Niall keeps talking about things Louis doesn’t understand. He tunes out before he gives Niall a bitchy answer, and curses Liam and Zayn five ways through Sunday for not being here. _“We’ll only be able to get there around lunch time, sorry, mate,”_ the backstabbing bitches said. Louis would have their balls for dessert if he didn’t know just how disgusting they can be during tour.

His friend is still talking when they get downstairs, and he animatedly points towards a golf cart that is waiting for them. The minute Louis’ eyes focus on the boy that is driving it is the moment that the air gets stuck in his throat and he chokes on nothing.

“HAZZ!” Niall all but yells and then _Harry_ steps out of the cart, a huge smile on his face as he sees Louis’ bandmate.

“NIIII!” He yells back, arms wide open to receive Niall’s hug.

Oh shit. This is not happening. He can’t be Bandana Boy. Fuck. It’s just Louis’ luck. He’s about to be so embarrassed.

“Hey, this is Louis, my mate I was telling ya about,” Niall lets go and looks at Louis.

There’s a smirk on the boy’s face and a glint in his eyes that gives away the fact that he totally recognized Louis before. He must have.

“Hi, Louis,” Harry stretches his hand. “Pleasure to meet you in person,” he continues. “Niall will never ever shut up about you.”

Louis catches his hand. His really big, really smooth, really attractive hand. _Be cool, just shake his hand_.

“How can you afford a G Class being a caddie?” He blurts out. Harry’s eyes widen. “Holy shit, that was so rude. I’m sorry. Hi. I’m Louis.” Louis corrects himself.

Niall laughs loudly even though he doesn’t understand _how_ Louis knows what Harry drives.

“Uh-” Harry mumbles.

“Hazza here is a rebel! He’s working because he wants to. He is _loaded,_ Lou.”

“Thank you, Niall.” Harry says lowly, clearly uncomfortable by Niall’s remark. “My mom got me this car for my birthday in February, seeing as this was the first time in two years, I guess, that I let her buy me an expensive gift.” He shifts on his feet. “I’m sorry, TMI.”

“Nah, it’s cool.” Louis says. “It’s a- a great car. I got my sister one when she turned eighteen.” He tells him.

“And she crashed it two months later; we all know the story…” Niall rolls his eyes and walks towards the cart, Harry and Louis following him.

“Harry doesn’t.” Louis defends himself.

“I actually do.” Harry turns the golf cart on and looks at Louis with a side smile. “Wasn’t lying when I said Niall couldn’t shut up about you. I think he lies about being straight and is in love with you.” He fake-whispers the second part.

“Oh yeah, because _I_ am the one who was a nervous wreck when Louis Tomlinson confirmed he was coming.” Niall snorts.

Harry blushes, and then whispers a timid _shut up_ that has Louis more endeared than before.

Let’s just say that the singer’s mood is a hundred percent improved this morning. Not even golf can ruin today.

 

-

 

“Fucking shit, how much further is he going to walk?” Louis moans when the clock hits eleven thirty and Niall is pursuing a ball around the course, fuck if Louis understands why.

“He’s got two more holes to go, if I’m not mistaken,” Harry responds a bit confused. “Said he wanted to try one from a bunker, but I think he gave up on that.” He continues.

Louis smiles, not having any idea whatsoever of what a bunker is.

“So, how long do we have till he decides to hit the freaking ball?” He asks. “I mean, he’s been swinging his body for five minutes? That shit’s not rocket science, now is it?”

“You really don’t appreciate golf, do you?” Harry smiles amusedly at him.

“Hell, no. Am a football kind of guy.”

“Oh. That’s rare, for a Brit, I mean. Don’t you guys prefer soccer?”

Louis groans. Loudly. And places both hands on his face.

“Football _is_ soccer you uncultured American.” He says, way more fondly than he himself expected to.

“Heeeeeeeey,” Harry complains. “It’s not my fault this country does things a little bit differently than yours.”

“Try the rest of the fucking world,” he snorts. “Like, _miles_ , _Fahrenheit, soccer!!!_ ” He cries out. “What the fuck even is this shit?”

“Wow, Louis, is there anything about this country that you actually like?” The boy asks a bit outraged, but not really. Louis thinks he’s being cheeky again.

“Plenty.”

“For instance?”

“You, for starters.” He shrugs, flirting his way into this conversation. “But I gotta admit that the food here is better too. Not the best I’ve ever had. But better.”

“What’s the best you’ve ever had?” Harry asks and Louis laughs unabashedly. “ _Food!_ What’s the best food you’ve ever had?”

“Anything from South America. Like, for real, _those_ people know how to cook.”

“They do have better ingredients.” He holds his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and frowns his plucked eyebrows as if he’s reflecting about it. Louis is so attracted to him that he could cry. Also, Harry’s ignoring a very important thing Louis has just said. “Especially fruits, but that’s mainly because of the tropical-”

“I just said I liked you and you’re still going on about food? Really?” The singer nudges Harry’s side with a smirk on his face.

Harry’s skin turns crimson.

“I didn’t want to be cheesy and say that I already like you back, is all.” He answers.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think that I was, like, fanboying all over you. Which I’m not. Uh- I- I do like you guys’ music, but, you know-”

“Now you’re rambling. And stammering.” Louis raises an eyebrow as he points. The other boy chuckles.

“Cause you made me a little bit nervous.”

“Don’t be. I already like you, remember?” He winks.

Niall calls Harry’s name, so he looks up.

“Y-yeah, I… I am going to keep that in mind.” He says as he turns to jog towards Niall.

Louis isn’t ashamed to say that he ogles Harry’s back all the way. And if he chugs down a bottle of water, he tells himself it has much more to do with this infernal weather than with the fact that Harry is the embodiment of everything sinful.

 

        

His friend finally decides it’s time for them to go back and have lunch when Zayn calls that he’s already arriving. Louis is surprised, to say the least, because Zayn is the one who’s always, always late. But then they get back to the front of the restaurant and Louis sees that Liam drove him, and the world makes sense again.

  Niall, bless him, invites Harry to have lunch with them, but he politely declines saying he has to work.

        “Don’t you get lunchtime?” Louis asks.

        “Yeah- in the staff room.” Harry replies.

        “That… Sucks.” He says honestly.

        “You’ll just have to ask me out, I suppose.” Cheeky, bandana boy shrugs, then opens a smile. _Be cool, you definitely want to take him on a date._

        “I guess…”

        “I’m joking, you don’t have to, I-”

        “Harry. Stop it.” Louis chuckles. “Of course I’ll ask you out. I didn’t go through the embarrassment of flirting with a guy in the car behind mine and then meeting him just so I’d pass up the opportunity.”

        “Oh.” Harry’s cheeks redden again. “All right then. I’ll be waiting?” He smiles. His teeth are so white and so perfect. Louis wants to lick them, which- yeah, he’s not going to talk about how weird that is.

        “ _Yo_ , you coming anytime soon?” Zayn speaks a bit louder and  Louis looks over his shoulder.

        Niall is laughing, but doesn’t say anything. Liam remains unbothered on his phone, already being too used to Louis making them wait.

        “Go.” Harry says.

        “I’ll… Text you later?”

        “Off at four.”

        “Okay, then.” Louis accepts. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

        “You too, Louis.”

        And that’s it, the ending of their first encounter. It’s a bit formal, and a bit awkward, really different from how they spent their morning together, but still, it’s… Nice. Louis tells himself, again, to simply _be cool; you will see him again_.

The singer turns his back and walks over to his band mates without looking back, simply listening to when the golf cart turns on again. He makes a mental note to text Harry at 4:01pm.

 

 

-

 

 

“Who was that you were talking to, Lou?” Liam asks right after they place their orders.

“Name’s Harry,” he answers, then sips some water.

“Loueh here has a new crush,” the Irishman speaks now. Louis doesn’t even blush.

“Do you?” Liam checks.

“I guess I do,” he chuckles. “Don’t know, I liked him. We’re gonna go out and- see how it goes.”

“You’re gonna go _out_? WHEN?” Niall practically screams.

“Chill, bro.” Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Don’t know that either. We exchanged phone numbers, so I might text him later. I’ll tell you when I know, _mom_.” Louis replies exaggeratedly.

“Harry’s like- a _really_ cool guy.” Niall goes on. “It’ll be dope if you two hit it off.”

“Think we already did, to be honest.”

“What is your angle here, Tommo?” Zayn asks a bit more seriously. Louis frowns, not understanding what he is getting at. “You wanna fuck him or d’you really wanna date him? Cause like- he’s the golf cart boy.”

        “ _O_ - _kay_ …” Louis’ voice gets higher without him even noticing. “The fuck, Zayn?”

        Liam puts his phone down once and for all. Stares at Louis worryingly. He probably knows what Zayn is talking about.

        “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Liam asks.

        “That he might be after Louis’ money? Hell yeah. This is LA, for fuck’s sake.”

        “Okay, Zayn, _no_.” Niall says and then laughs. Everyone turns to him. “One, I’ve known Harry for two years, he would _never_. Secondly, I’ve already told Louis that boy is loaded. He’s probably got more millions than the four of us together.”

        “What the fuck, you’ve known him for _two years_?” Louis asks. This is definitely more alarming than Harry being… What? Almost a billionaire?

        “Yes?”

        “And it never ever occurred to you to _introduce_ us?” He’s so mad. His friends think he is funny, apparently, because both the Irish one and Liam laugh.

        “Golf cart boy is wealthy?” Zayn cuts Louis off.

        “Harry had a boyfriend until the beginning of the year. And when they broke up, we were touring. This was literally the first opportunity I had to introduce you two. You’re welcome.” He answers Louis. Then turns to Zayn. “Wealthy is one way to put it. His mom is Anne Cox, _yes_ , the model. And his father is Des Styles- ring a bell?”

        “Styles as in-” Louis starts.

        “Every five-star hotel we’ve been in.” Niall smiles big.

        “Holy fuck.” Liam whistles.

        “Why- why is he golf cart boy, then?” Zayn asks.

        “Because he wants to.” Niall says. “Hazz is… A very special dude, I reckon. He’s got like- designers at his feet begging him to model for them, offering ridiculous contracts, but he wants to have a proper college guy experience, I guess. Plus, it pisses his parents off- seeing him work here.”

        “Why?” Zayn. Again.

        “I think they wanted him to be someone he’s not.”

        “I don’t like that I know all that about him before we’ve actually gone out.” Louis then states. “Can you, like- shut up?” He chuckles kind of nervously. “Lemme get to know him first.”

        “Sure.”

        “Also: you were extremely impolite and an asshole, Zayn Malik.” Louis looks at him, pissed off. “It’s not because a person is poor that they’re gonna be after our money.”

        “You’re too good.”

        “And you’re too cynical.” Louis replies.

        “That’s what Perrie said when she broke up with me.” He mumbles.

        Louis goes soft instantly. Only God and Louis himself know just how in love Zayn was – _is_ – with that girl.

        “Shit.”

        “’S all right. She was right. You are too.” His friend offers him a smile. “It’s just- we’ve been through so much shit that it’s hard not to be this way.”

        “You have to try harder, Z.” Liam puts his voice in. “Not everyone’s out there to get us.”

        “Except for Harry. Harry totally wants to _get_ Louis!” Niall lightens up the mood. They all laugh. “I swear to God, he almost choked when I told him you’d be coming. I think he has a picture of yours saved in his phone. I _swear_.”

        “Niall, shut up.” Louis rolls his eyes, but then looks down.

       

        It’s been a while since he’s felt _giddy_ about something; since his stomach did a backflip at the sight of a person and his mind emptied when someone smiled at him. Louis could never lie and say he isn’t a romantic; more than once he’s written lyrics that were considered _too mushy_ for somebody who isn’t even in a relationship, and over the course of the five years he’s been in this band, he’s tried, in vain, to find someone he could be with.

        He doesn’t think he’s ever had a proper boyfriend. It’s just never happened to him, and he thinks most of it has to do with the fact that they’ve worked nonstop since they all met at The X Factor, but he also thinks that the other reason is the fact that he has idealized things _so_ much that no one ever caught his eye for more than a month or two.

        Louis never knew love at home. Not the love people write novels about. He’s known fraternal love, he’s known friendship love. But love _love_ , _passion_ love… Nah. _That_ he’s only read about, watched on TV and the movies. He’s come from a broken home – from two fathers leaving. From never seeing his mom and dad in love. From holding his sister close to his chest while she cried over the boy who didn’t love her back.

But he still believes in love, somehow. He thinks that the things he’s read and watched _have_ to come from something real. He believes that someone has once felt that way; that what they wrote about was real, therefore it was _possible_ for them and why wouldn’t it be possible for _him_ then?

        He holds onto a small, childish hope that there’s someone out there in this crazy, wild world so completely, utterly meant for him that even the stars will sigh, _at last,_ in relief of their meeting.

        Louis acknowledges his standards are pretty high for anyone to meet. But then it’s three fifty nine, he’s back at his house simply _staring_ at his phone waiting for the digital clock show him it’s four pm, in order for him to text Harry, and he wonders if maybe Bandana Boy might just be that someone.

 

 

-

 

 

        Their first date happens on Friday, just two days after they’ve met because that’s when Harry’s day off is and Louis Tomlinson isn’t one to play games when he likes someone. And he likes Harry. More now than he did the first day, since they’ve texted nonstop for the last couple of days. Nothing much, nothing too serious. They mainly talked about their days and Keeping Up With The Kardashians – a conversation in which was very much implied that Harry was close friends with Kendall Jenner. Louis didn’t dig into that, because he really fucking hates Kendall Jenner.

        Harry chooses the place, because he doesn’t want them to get spotted, so Louis simply follows his GPS as it takes him further and further away from his house. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the distances in the US. Where he is from, almost every place is from a walking distance, and he never used to spend more than fifteen minutes in the tube. Yet here he is, driving for half an hour to have lunch with Harry Styles, son of an empire.

        Louis stops in front of the restaurant and the valet takes his car key immediately, a chipper smile on his face. Louis tips him and greets him with a polite _good day, mate_ before walking towards the entrance.

        The place isn’t secluded, but it’s quiet – it’s the first thing he notices. Places in Los Angeles have a tendency to be noisy and crowded, but he thinks Harry’s picked the perfect place.

        “Uh- hi,” he smiles at the lady that welcomes him. “I think there’s a reservation under the Styles name?”

        “Yes, sir, this way, please.”

        He follows her and together they bypass a couple of tables until they finally reach his.

        “Mr. Styles has already arrived; he might have gone to the restroom.” She says ever so politely. “Make yourself comfortable, Loui- _oh,_ ” the lady blushes, “I’m so sorry, sir.”

        “It’s okay, love.” He chuckles.

        “I- my friends and I, we’re- huge fans of your band, that’s all.”

        “This is great to know.” Louis smiles brightly at her. “Thank you. D’you want a picture, maybe?”

        “Oh, no. Yes, but no.” She grimaces. “I’ll get fired on the spot if I do it.” She says regretfully. “But thank you. So much. Hope you enjoy your meal.”

        “Thank _you_ , really.” He says and she gives him one last smile before walking away, fixing her hair.

        “I should’ve known there was _no way_ to escape your fans.” Comes an amused voice from behind him.

        Louis turns around.

        “Hello, Harold. Fancy seeing you here.” He jokes lightly, and then he assesses the… Situation before him.

        He knew Harry Styles was gorgeous when he saw him through his rearview mirror from a few meters away. Then, his suspicions were confirmed when they met in person – Harry in his work uniform. But _now…_ Now Louis has the final ratification that this guy right here is everything he’s ever dreamed of and never even knew how to put into words.

        Harry’s wearing tight, white jeans hugging his perfect thighs in a way that makes Louis’ mouth water, and a creamy, yellow shirt that is only half buttoned up and falls lightly and loosely on his shoulders, framing his body as if it were made for him – and only him. His hair’s styled back and Louis can see curls starting to appear, and he wonders if Harry will let it grow or give it a trim when the time comes.

        He’s just _unfairly_ beautiful, Harry is. Everything about him is attractive, from his boots to his necklace, from his chest to his eyes and Louis is at loss for words for a few seconds before he finally regains composure enough to cough awkwardly and finally sit on his chair, seeing Harry do the same across from him.

        “You look really good, Louis.” Harry voices, a smile on his gorgeous face. So, so gorgeous it’s _stupid_. It leaves _Louis_ stupid.

        “I- thank you. I currently have no words for you.” He says way too honestly.

        Harry cracks up a loud, exaggerated laugh, and then places a hand on his mouth.

        “You’re ridiculous; don’t make me laugh like this here.” He responds. “Also, I’m sorry I made you drive so far. I just really like this place. Hope you do too.”

        “I do,” the singer assures him as he looks around.

        “It’s not- like, the most expensive or exclusive one I could find. But it’s definitely the most, uh, comfortable? And the food is ridiculously good.”

        “Don’t need the most expensive or exclusive, Harry.” He doesn’t even realize how sweetly he is smiling at the moment.  

       

        For the next few hours, Louis Tomlinson loses control of his facial expressions, his words, and, most importantly, his heart.

        Harry’s just too much, but too much in the best way.

Louis has grown up surrounded by people, and he’s very good at knowing what each one of them is for. Even inside his band, Louis is pretty sure that while Liam would be the one to bail him out of jail with a serious face, Zayn would be the one to _go_ to jail with him in the first place, and Niall would laugh it all off throwing a party afterwards. With Liam he works, pours his heart out in lyrics; with Niall he parties, pours his heart out after a few drinks; in Zayn, Louis confides, pours his heart out with the right amount of weed and stares from his friend.

        Now Harry… Harry seems to be the kind of person with whom Louis would be able to do it all. And it’s weird to have this kind of thought on a first date; he knows it’s not common, but also, who even said Louis wants common? Common doesn’t attract him, not when there’s this boy here, with messy curls and a huge smile, telling him really stupid jokes about food.

        Common doesn’t hold a candle over Harry’s soft voice when he talks about his friends from college or the small chuckles he lets out when he tells Louis about how he and Niall became sort of friends. Common definitely doesn’t even compare to how intently Harry listens when Louis is the one talking, how he brightens up at the mention of Louis’ huge family and baby twin siblings. _Twins!_ He exclaims. _Baby twins!_

 

        Harry Styles is a tornado with pretty eyes and a heartbeat, and Louis isn’t even scared of the storm.

 

 

-

 

 

        Louis pays the bill against Harry’s wishes, telling him that _he_ was the one who asked Harry on a date, so it was only fair.

        “I’ll just have to ask you out again now,” Harry shrugs with a coy smile on his face.

        “What makes you think I’ll say yes?” Louis raises an eyebrow.

        “I’m pretty.”

        “What makes you think you’re pretty?” He crosses his arms, sassing Harry out.

        “You flirted with me through your rearview mirror,” Harry replies cheekily. Louis got caught. He laughs, still a bit embarrassed by that, and nods, finally surrendering. “Hey, Louis, d’you have plans this afternoon?”

        “No, I don’t. Why?” The singer smiles, waiting for the next words to pour out of Harry’s mouth.

        “Wanna go for a ride with me?”

        “Where?”

        “The hills… I rode my motorcycle here, and it’s a very beautiful day, so I thought we could…”

        “I am _not_ getting on a motorcycle, nah-uh, not happening.” He says and snorts.

        Harry pouts immediately.

        “C’ _mon_ ,” he pleads.

        “Harry. No.” Louis looks at him. _Wrong choice_. _Pretty eyes, remember?_ “I’m a bit- uh- scared?”

        “Louis. You’ve sky-dived and bungee-jumped. You can ride a motorcycle.” The boy argues.

        “Yeah, but- _wait_ , how’d you know that I’ve done both of those things?” He questions him accusingly. Harry shuts his mouth. “Did you- have you _googled_ me, Harry Styles?”

        “I- _no_.” He looks down. “Niall told me about the sky-diving thing.” His cheeks are redder than normal.

        “What about bungee-jumping?”

        “You said in an interview, like, ages ago. I didn’t even know Niall back then. It was what- your second year in the band?”

        “Yeah.”

        “Anyways.” Harry shrugs. “I’d like to take you for a ride on the hills. I’ll let you hug me and everything.” He bargains. Louis is like, really scared. He absolutely _hates_ motorcycles. Ask him to jump into thin air anytime, but do _not_ make him get on one of those things. Still. They’re on a sidewalk, in the sun, and Harry’s eyes are greener than Louis has ever seen them.

        He looks at Louis expectantly. And- Louis knows this isn’t a _make or break_ situation. But… Harry is looking at him with a look that could put an end to world wars if he wanted to.

        “You don’t have to.” The boy finally says, a bit defeated.

        A second passes.

        “Harry.” He looks at him. “Take me on a moto ride up the Hollywood Hills.” Louis can see Harry’s smile spreading on his face like the city lights start to shine when nighttime comes.

       

        They agree on leaving Louis’ car at his house and then going up there. Harry follows him with his moto and this is good. It gives Louis time to take a breath and assess his heart-mind situation. He thinks and rethinks about his last date and what a disaster that was.

        It sure wound up in sex, but that was only because the guy was hot and they couldn’t keep the conversation going on even if he wanted to. Before that, he honestly cannot remember. It all becomes a blur when you’re traveling constantly and has someone else organize your schedule for you.

        So yeah, Louis is pretty rusty when it comes to _dating_ just to get to know someone. But there are three things he is a hundred percent certain of: he likes Harry, he wants to kiss Harry, and he will want to see Harry after today.

        When they stop at a red light, only two corners from Louis place, Harry stops the moto besides Louis’ car and waves at him. He can see Harry’s smile even though he’s wearing a helmet, because his eyes light up. Louis smiles back, feels the crinkles by the sides of his own eyes, and he knows it’s _real_.

        The light turns green, and Louis presses the pedal.

        Once they get to his house, he opens the garage and signs for Harry to follow him. He doesn’t want to risk it and have anyone photographing them doing this car/moto exchange; he doesn’t need Harry’s face plastered everywhere before they even know what it is they are doing. The media has a way of ruining things before they even begin.

       

        “Wow. That’s a nice place you have here,” Harry comments as soon as he takes off his helmet and looks around.

        Louis gets his phone and wallet and then closes his car door.

        “Yeah.” He says. “This is more for my family than for myself.”

        “How come?”

        “If it were just me, I’d probably have a flat downtown with a nice view and a parking garage, not a two story house.”

        “I don’t believe you,” Harry smiles.

        “Why not?”

        “Tell me you don’t have a soccer- _football_ court here and a gym and a game room inside.” He challenges.

        “That’s preposterous!” Louis places a hand on the top of his heart, absolutely outraged. Well. Faking outrage, anyways. “Liam made me get a gym,” he then completes lowly. “I just mean- like. I love this house, okay? I can’t lie. I do. But… I wouldn’t mind not having it. This much money was never my goal.” Harry frowns, so he continues. “I wanted to help mom and be able to pay my bills at the end of the month. This insanity is just… Well. _Insane_.” He chuckles.

        “You worked a lot for what you have, Louis. That’s not insane, that’s life being fair or something like that. It’s very unfair to a lot of people, but it was fair to you, so take it and don’t feel guilty for it.” He says serenely. “Enjoy your yard and your game room and even the gym Liam made you get. You deserve it all. And if you find out you’d rather live in a small apartment downtown, then, well, do it too. It’s your money. You can do whatever the hell you want with it.” Harry smiles.

        “Thanks.” Louis replies, lacking better words at the moment. “I’d offer you a tour but maybe, uh, next time? We should really get going now.”

        “Next time.” Harry winks. “C’mon…” He climbs onto the moto again. “Here.” He then offers Louis a blue helmet.

        The singer carefully puts it on, pretending he is not worried about messing his hair. He stands by Harry’s side and lets the other boy make sure that its latch is safely closed.

        “Ok, just so you don’t freak out or get angst-y: this helmet offers exceptional vent and temperature control; also, we can put on some music and it’ll play in there, if it’ll help you get distracted. All right?” Louis nods. Harry presses one of the moto buttons and Coldplay sings in Louis’ ears. “Kay. Hop on!” Harry says and Louis does it before he changes his mind.

        Harry puts his own helmet on – a bright green one – while Louis adjusts himself in the back. He is not uncomfortable per se, but he is a bit nervous.

        “Here we go.”

        The singer opens the gate with the remote control, and then Louis hears the engine noise; his body goes rigid instantly.

        “Hug me, Lou.” Harry says softly, and Louis scoots closer to Harry’s back.

        He places both hands on Harry’s waist and feels the moto moving slowly towards the gate. They exit the house and Louis presses the control button again, putting it inside his jean pocket right after.

It’s when Harry presses his back a bit more forcefully to Louis’ front that he hugs the other boy for real, his own arms crossing in front of Harry’s chest as they gain speed through the road. Louis closes his eyes for the first five minutes, trying to forget the outside world and only focus on Chris Martin’s voice, but as they keep moving, Harry all but yells for him to open his eyes – as if he _knew_ Louis would be closing them.

“IT’S NOT THAT SCARY, I PROMISE.” He says.

Louis opens his eyes just in time to see Harry taking the fourth exit after Louis’ house, which confirms Louis’ theory that this boy knows Los Angeles like the back of his hand (different from Louis, who can barely drive around his own neighborhood).

He’s only been to the top of the hills once, and he thinks it was to film a music video in the early days of One Direction. Or maybe he’s mixing it up. He’s not really sure now. He does remember these trees – _but then again, how many trees have you seen in this life, you idiot?_ He laughs at himself.

The leaves scud over the ground and take small flights into the air. Louis feels brave enough to toss his head back and raise his eyes to the sky, arms still firmly holding onto Harry, a smile appearing on his face. _This is exciting_ , he thinks as he watches the branches sway away like the arms of a footie crowd and their own chaotic dance are hypnotically beautiful.

Louis’ mind relaxes and he feels happiness bubbling up from within. The light he keeps inside begins to escape from his pores and he can’t help but think Harry was the one to ignite them. They turn a dangerous corner, the motorcycle almost touches the ground with how low they have to bend, but the fear is replaced by something else this time... Giddiness, maybe. The wind carries the fragrance of his childhood days. And Louis is, in a way, home.

They lose velocity in about two minutes, Louis thinks, and Harry stops.

There’s a small field where the grass is low and Louis knows it’s beautiful before he even takes off his helmet. Harry does it for him, though. First the other boy climbs off of the motorcycle and takes his own off, then he helps Louis with his.

“Still alive?” Harry asks.

“ _I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing…_ ” He sings. Harry’s mouth opens, his eyes lose focus only for a bit.

“When you-” he starts “did you know that when you sing the rest of the world disappears?”

“I… What?”

He’s still sat on the motorcycle and Harry’s standing in front of him with a dumbfounded expression. The other boy shakes his head and speaks up again.

“Your voice is probably the most unique one I’ve ever heard. In  the band, when you sing with them, you carry everyone else’s voices. And when you have a solo, it’s like the rest of the universe needs to stop and pay attention to it.” Harry explains. “It all disappears, ‘s what I’m saying. At least to me.”

“Harry…”

“It’s not a fan complex, I promise.” He chuckles. “Although I _am_ a fan. But- just thought you should know. I love your voice. And your singing now took me by surprise. Which led to all this rambling.”

“Hey,” Louis says, grabs Harry’s free hand. “Come here.” He pulls him in between his legs. “ _Come here_ ,” he pulls Harry closer and hugs him. Harry melts into his body as soon as their chests are pressed as close as the position allows them. “ _Thank you_ , H.” He says in a low voice, then presses a soft kiss on Harry’s throat. He squeezes Harry in his arms just for another second or two, and when Harry says _you’re welcome_ , voice weaker than Louis has heard before, he lets go.

       

They walk until the middle of the field and find a tree to sit under. Here they have a gorgeous view of the city, but Los Angeles has never looked so insignificant to Louis. He doesn’t think how anything else can really matter when there’s a boy like this by his side.

“You know…” He starts. “You driving a Mercedes Benz and then being the Golf Cart boy was a surprise. But I gotta say that I didn’t peg you for a motorcycle kind of guy either.” He chuckles.

“Yeah?” Harry laughs, Louis nods. “The motorcycle ride is like a ritual, I think.” He sighs. “I sometimes just sit on it for a moment, listening to the purr of the engine. It’s a solid machine and it is… Comfortable for me, you know? I like to head for these mountain roads,” he points to roads even higher than the ones they rode, “and sometimes I disregard speed limits, opening the throttle wide… Sometimes my knee will be just skimming the ground as I take the bends. I know it’s like- very irresponsible, but… It’s also my therapy.” He finishes his explanation. “I think it’s like writing for you? Maybe?”

“Except writing won’t get me killed.” The raises an eyebrow as he jokes. Harry’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re all right. I’m not trying to get killed, you know? I promise I’m not one of those dark and twisted boys who torture themselves and everyone around them.” He smiles at Louis. “Sometimes I just need to empty my mind, is all.”

“I get that. I used to smoke a lot to, you know, empty my mind.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah.”

“What made you stop?”

“My mom.” He tells him truthfully. He doesn’t tell many people about this. He doesn’t really talk about his mom. “A while ago, she got really sick. Really, really sick. And I made a promise that if she got better I’d stop smoking. The day we were told she was fine I threw my pack of cigarettes away and never looked back.” He takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I’m scared that if I ever put another cigarette between my lips she’ll get sick all over again.” Louis confesses. “And there’s no me without my mom, so.”

“Lou…” Harry gets closer. “You’re really special, you know that?”

“I gave up a bad habit.” He says a tiny bit dismissively, but he can still feel the heat in his cheeks. “It’s not like I ignore my parents’ empire and work at a Country Club…”

“Heeey.” Harry says and nudges him on the shoulder. “It’s not like that. Niall doesn’t know the whole story, you know?” He looks down.

“What’s the whole story?”

“That’s… For another time.” Harry tells him as he leans closer and rests his head on Louis’ shoulder. “For now let’s just… Exist.”

If _anyone_ else had said something like that, Louis would have snapped at them. He’d have said something sassy and laughed it off. But it’s Harry saying it, and because it’s Harry saying it, Louis sighs contently and rests his back against the tree just so the two of them can exist right then and there together.

The weather is the kind that feels like a kiss of summer without the fiery heat of afternoon time, much more pleasant than it was a few days ago. The grass is a soft green that almost has a hint of blue and in the sky has enough pristine white clouds to show how beautiful it is, how perfect.

 _Who needs to do anything but exist when simply existing feels so blissful?_ Louis wonders. He closes his eyes so that he can focus just on the sound, but everything sums up to Harry’s breathing next to him. Louis thinks he could write a song about this day and it still wouldn’t be enough. He breathes in, breathes out, and opens his eyes again, letting the daylight flood back in, bringing this moment back into focus.

Harry talks again, and now he mentions flowers. He sits cross legged and goes on and on about how much he used to love the roses his grandparents tended with such loving care. He tells Louis he appreciates the roses, but he doesn’t necessarily get why they have more appeal than some others.

“It’s not that I don’t like them or think they aren't beautiful,” he explains, as if the flowers have sentiments and he’ll hurt them if he doesn’t make his point very clear. “It’s just that I am equally in love with meadow flowers, with forget-me-nots and buttercups.”

“I bet you’re the kind of person who knows the meaning of flowers…”

“Just because grandma taught me them.” He blushes.

“Do you love all flowers equally then? Or do you have a favorite?” Louis has never been interested in flowers. Not until now, apparently.

“Not really. I tend to associate flowers with people ever since my grandma told me which one my mom was…” He trails. “My mom has always been obsessed with this painting by John Singer Sargent called _Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose_. Do you know it?”

“No.”

“It’s two small children dressed in white who are lighting paper lanterns as day turns into evening; they are in a garden strewn with pink roses, accents of yellow carnations and tall white lilies… Mom’s always said that she loved this painting because of the _yellow_ in it. But it’s _so_ little yellow, I never understood. So one day I talked about it with grandma, I must’ve been sixteen…” Harry looks ahead, as if he’s seeing the memory unfolding right in front of his eyes. “I ask her _why does mom think the yellow is so important?_ And then my grandma laughs, and goes like _because it’s a Carnation flower. And your mom is a Carnation flower, Harry_.”

Harry chuckles. Looks at Louis. Louis waits for him to continue.

“Carnation symbolizes pride and beauty. Which- that’s my mom, I swear.” He chuckles.

“That’s… Really interesting, actually.”

“I know it’s not. Not really.” Harry acknowledges. “But it became a hobby. First time I met Niall, I knew he was a Daisy: innocence and purity; conveys loyal love and cheerfulness.”

“That really is Niall.” Louis muses. And then, the curiosity takes the best of him, so he has to ask. “D’you have a flower for me, Harry Styles?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” He averts Louis’ gaze, his lips curve up but he tries to contain himself. “You’re Bird of Paradise.”

“You gonna tell me what that means?” The singer asks.

Harry’s eyes meet his.

“It symbolizes _joyfulness_. And magnificence.” He voices. They’re very, very close. “It can also be used to indicate _exciting_ and _wonderful anticipation_. Which… I like to think of it as Serendipity.”

        For someone who thinks the world of Louis’ writing skills, Harry plays with words like they are dolls and tea cups. And Louis is, not for the first time today, at loss for words.

        “You think of me as Serendipity?” His voice is weak as he dumbly stares into Harry’s eyes, which keep traveling down to Louis’ lips.

        Louis does the same to him.

        “I do. I really, really do.” He registers Harry saying right before he gently leans in.

        Their lips are warm when they touch, just a soft, quick press of skin; Louis barely has time to close his eyes before Harry’s pulling them apart again. The other boy takes a shaky, shallow breath, and when he notices Louis won’t push him away ( _how the hell did he have any doubt?_ ), he surges forward once more.

        Louis meets him halfway and is unable to contain the small groan that is formed in his throat when he feels Harry catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He holds Harry’s head in his hands and pulls him in a little more passionately than the moment asks for, maybe, but the other boy doesn’t complain. He opens his mouth eagerly as soon as Louis asks for permission, and his hands work around Louis’ body, learning its curves, as Louis does the same to him, feeling each line along his perfect frame.

        They slowly lie down. Louis on his back as Harry matches his form, hovering over him. Everything about this is so perfect that the grass doesn’t bother him, and the setting sun is a mere spectator, a testifier of the moment. Harry’s hands travel on Louis’ body, exploring, _recognizing_ , and he never really stops kissing him. Louis buries his hands in the other boy’s hair and tugs on it just a bit, receiving a low moan from Harry.

        They pull apart and open their eyes. The green on Harry’s eyes are somewhat liquid, ethereal even. They stare at each other and no words are spoken, but a story worthy of them is communicated. Harry softly kisses up and down Louis’ neck and Louis lets out small whimpers, needing Harry’s mouth back on his like one needs water in the desert.

    

The singer takes a deep breath and they are kissing again.

 

-

 

        Louis has never dreaded going home so much. When the sun is finally gone and it starts to get really dark, he and Harry hop on the motorcycle again and start to make their way back to the city. Now that it’s Louis’ second time on _this thing_ – still how he calls it –, he doesn’t waste any time closing his eyes or losing his shit over the speed.

        He presses as close to Harry as he can and tries to memorize his smell for the next few days he won’t be seeing him. Louis wonders how he has made it his entire life without knowing this person. He briefly thinks that he doesn’t want to have another day of his life without a Harry Styles in it.

        Harry stops in front of Louis’ gate way too soon, and Louis doesn’t say anything when he opens it and gestures for Harry to move. Harry goes in. Louis closes the gate. _Yes_.

        “I just,” Louis starts, helmet still on. “I just want to say goodbye properly.”

        “Okay.” Harry replies.

        They both take off their helmets and find themselves standing in front of each other. Harry has his back rested on the moto and this time Louis is the one to step forwards, between Harry’s parted legs.

        Harry holds both of Louis’ hands as if they hold the most important secrets of the universe.

 _Be cool, do not come on too strong now_ , he tells himself. Still, he has to be honest.

“I’ve had many great days in life,” Louis says. “And today’s in my top five of favorite days.”

“Lou…” Harry coos softly.

“This was the best date I’ve ever been on, Harry. And like- I knew we would hit it off, I just didn’t know it’d be… Like this.”

“Like what?”

“Perfect.” He shrugs.

Harry hugs him.

“Today’s been perfect for me too. And I’ll go home counting the minutes to text you and ask _when_ we can go on another date.” He confesses in Louis’ ear. “And I will be hoping, with everything that I’ve got, that it won’t be long.”

“You and I both.” The singer laughs lightly, and raises one of his hands to Harry’s jaw, his thumb caressing Harry’s upper cheek so softly he can barely recognize his own gesture. But he thinks Harry is so perfect that anything else would break his skin. “G’night, H.” He kisses him.

And- well, for someone who is so soft-looking, Harry Styles can also be kind of harsh. Better yet: the kind of harsh Louis _likes_.

He pulls Louis in by the waist and squeezes his hips before stealing a breath-taking kiss from his mouth. Louis closes his eyes instantly and circles Harry’s neck with both arms, bringing him in as close as he can, trying to turn both of their bodies into one.

It’s heated from the start. Harry’s tongue travels inside his mouth and Louis follows it without missing a beat. He feels the heat and he feels the shivers. He feels Harry’s hands roaming his body and he feels his own body trying to get friction from wherever they are touching. Mouth, chests, hands, _crotches_.

Louis remembers what Harry likes and pulls his hair again, and the other boy all but moans into Louis’ mouth, kissing down his jaw and neck while Louis places his hands on Harry’s biceps, holding them for dear life as he rolls his neck to one side, exposing his column for Harry to kiss.

The other boy runs his tongue hotly over Louis’ throat, then bites the sensitive skin long enough to bruise, moving to the other side and doing the same, sucking, biting, french-kissing Louis’ skin and all Louis can do is keep his eyes half open, his hands on a tight grip, his hips pressing forward so he can touch Harry’s own, but back, so Harry will squeeze his ass harder.

Understanding what he is trying to do, Harry pulls him in by his ass cheeks now, and Louis moans obscenely as he notices Harry’s half hard cock already, realizing that he is, too, on his way there. There are butterflies doing backflips in his belly, and his whole being is _imploring_ him to do _more_. And Louis almost does.

He almost asks Harry to go inside and fuck him five ways to Sunday. He almost gives in. But somehow, a _not now_ voice murmurs in the back of his mind. _Wait just a little bit_ , it says. Louis breathes in, breathes out, and kisses Harry again.

One hand goes back to the other boy’s jaw, the other puts weak pressure on his chest. Harry understands, _of course he does_. He slows down the pace, places three pecks on Louis’ lips, then opens his eyes. They’re both flushed, they’re both sporting hard-ons, they’re both smiling so bright they could light up this entire town if the power ever went down.

“I’m not waiting till I get home to know when I can see you again, Louis.” Harry says.

“I’m on a break, H.” He responds. “I literally have nothing to do until the end of the year.”

That’s not completely true. He has some writing sessions scheduled here and in London for the next few months. But none of them are more important than seeing this boy again.

“In that case… Can you pick me up after work tomorrow?”

“At four?” Harry nods. “What are you thinking?”

“We could go back to my house, get into the pool, maybe? Tomorrow’s supposed to be the hottest day of the year, you know?”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” Harry rolls his eyes at Louis’ disbelief. “We could go into the pool, then watch the sun set for real this time,” he smirks, “and I could cook us dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Louis smiles. “Count me in. I’ll be the one in the Bentley Continental.” He says with a smirk.

“I’ll be the one with a bandana in my hair.” Harry chuckles. Louis has to kiss him again.

It’s just a long peck.

“See you tomorrow, then.” He breathes out.

Harry kisses him back. Another long peck. Then one kiss on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Lou.”

When Louis is going to bed, he can’t help but pick up the phone. He needs to tell somebody, otherwise he will explode.

He picks Niall, because he’s the only one in the same time zone as Louis. Both Liam and Zayn are back in the UK, and so are Louis’ other friends.

 **Is it possible to be in love after just three days and one date?** He asks. Scared of the answer.

It comes not even a minute later.

**_According to Harry’s latest texts, yes, it is._ **

**_I’m happy for you, mate._ **

Louis closes his eyes.

Tonight he dreams of a field filled with Birds of Paradise, warm summer breeze, and a green eyed boy walking towards him.

 

 

-

 

 

        Louis thinks that getting ready for their second date is less stressful, because he doesn’t have to think over an outfit, since they’re going to the pool and then chilling at Harry’s place. He dresses in washed up jean shorts and a thin white shirt, carrying a light backpack with him which contains sunscreen, his wallet, cellphone and swim trunks.

        It’s the perfect time for a dip, he reckons, since the sun is still warm and present, but not really burning their skin anymore. Louis’ mind travels back to the UK while he pulls up in front of the Country Club, and how London is probably grey right now, even during Summer time. He’s always complaining about California, it’s true, but he has been having such pleasant days that maybe he doesn’t need to leave The United States just yet.

        **I’m here.** He shoots Harry a text and about two minutes later sees the boy walking out from the passenger’s gate. The boy doesn’t disappoint and has a green bandana wrapped around his growing curls, black, classic _Raybans_ and a Rolling Stones shirt accompanying tiny, pink shorts. Louis is already containing a smile and Harry isn’t even inside the car yet.

        Which. _Idiot, unlock the doors. And remember: be cool. It’s the second date._

“Hey, there,” Harry smiles big and leans over the console to kiss Louis’ cheek. Then he pulls back. “Too much?” He bites his bottom lip.

        “No, Hazz.”

        The nickname escapes before he can control himself. Harry doesn’t complain, kind of blushes even, so Louis doesn’t say anything else, just leans over the console, much like Harry did, and pecks his mouth.

        “There. That’s better.” The singer says. Harry’s grin only widens. “First things first: put your address on my GPS. Then tell me ‘bout your day.”

        Harry does so, and as they start driving in the right direction, Harry really does tell Louis about his day. One thing he learns, and likes, is that Harry is careful with people. He’s careful with how he talks about them and tells their stories – he talks about each individual as if they were special, unique, even when telling the silliest, most mundane story that happened.

        Louis laughs at the right moments and throws some snarky comments here and there. Harry accuses him of being mean, but his voice is soft and airy, so Louis knows he’s on the right path.

        “Did Niall come in today?” Louis asks, changing topics.

        “Yeah, in the morning. I think he’s trying to scout some kids?”

        “Oh. That’s clever.” He acknowledges. “He’s got this management company on the side? And he wants to introduce young golfers to the scene…”

        “He told me about it, I think it’s very kind.”

        And… Harry could’ve chosen the word _smart_. Because that’s what Louis said when Niall told them about it. He said it was smart of Niall to have something on the side – all of them have other projects outside of One Direction (Liam writes for other artists, Zayn paints, Louis runs an indie record label) –, because everyone needed a guarantee.

        But Harry goes with _kind_. Because he sees the best in everything, Louis is quickly finding out. He doesn’t think about the money, straight away. He thinks about the _good action._

Part of Louis wonders if it’s because he’s already come from money. Harry didn’t grow up counting coins and wondering how his mom would pay the month’s bills _and_ provide them food. So maybe that’s why it’s so easy for him not to see the financial side of things first. Another part of Louis simply believes Harry’s a better human being than most human beings he’s encountered in life.

        “Hey, Niall said he’s throwing a party next weekend…” The other boy says. “He invited me.”

        “Niall’s parties are crazy, I’m telling ya.”  Louis warns.

        “Would it… Would it be okay if I went?” Harry asks in a small voice.

        “Why wouldn’t it be?”

        “Don’t know. He’s your friend and there’ll be lots of friends of yours there, I think. I don’t wanna… Intrude in your life?” It’s more of a question than a statement. “And also, I mean- I don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me if I go…”

        “Harry.” Louis almost laughs, placing a hand on his thigh and rubbing his thumb in circular motions. “I _want_ you to go. I’m trying to convince Liam to fly back, but I know Zayn’s a lost cause.” He chuckles.

        “Why?”

        “He’s a recluse. He only parties a lot during tour ‘cause I drag him everywhere and he… Follows. _Point is:_ I want you there. I knew Niall would invite you otherwise I would’ve done it myself.” He offers him a reassuring smile.

        Harry seems like he wants to ask something else, the question is almost apparent on the tip of his tongue. But then he looks ahead and Louis knows he spots his house, because the next words that come out if his mouth are _over there_. And _Holy Mother of God_.

        Louis knew he was driving through a posh neighborhood, and he was expecting Harry to live at a mansion, too, but nothing could have prepared him for this place. Silly as he is, the first thought that comes to his mind is _Fräunlein Maria_ from _The Sound of Music_ arriving at the Captain’s house and being completely awestruck by its size and beauty.

        That’s how Louis is feeling.

        The entrance itself is so big and imposing that when the gates open he has to think to move the car, pretty sure that his mouth is hanging open. Harry shifts on his seat a bit uncomfortably and Louis does his best to behave. Louis Tomlinson paid eight million dollars for his house. He can’t even fathom how much this place here is worth.

        “Before you say anything… This is my mom’s place.” Harry explains. “She’s at work, by the way.”

        “Your mom has impeccable taste in real estate.” Is what Louis says.

        Harry cracks up with laughter.

        “That she does.” He muses. “You can stop here and leave the key in the ignition. José will put it in the garage for you.”

        Louis parks the car and turns to Harry.

        “Are you a cliché who has a family of immigrants for employees?” He squints his eyes.

        “They’re not employees, they’re my family too.” Harry explains. “But yeah.” He chuckles. “He’s married to Andréa, and both of them take care of the house. Their daughter, Alice, she’s my best friend. She’s in South Carolina for college now, though…” He opens the door. “C’mon, Lou. The pool awaits!”

        Louis follows him around the house so they can get to the pool side, which is… _Up?_

        They climb two flights of stairs and Louis hangs onto Harry’s every word, telling him how this is one of his favorite views in the whole state, because ever since _vanishing edge pools_ became a thing, it was his dream to have one here. He confesses this is one of the few things he convinced his mother to splurge on, because he knew that every summer, he’d spend as much time as possible here.

        “Sometimes I come during spring, too…” He says, and then Louis looks.

        Louis _loves_ edge pools, has been to a few of them around the world. And this one is gorgeous. The singer can see why Harry is in love with it.

        The city exists below the water, and Louis wants nothing more than to get inside.

        “This is so bloody cool. Puts my simple, L shaped pool to shame.” He comments, and Harry laughs. “Can we get in?”

        “Yes, sure. Go in. I’mma put some music on. D’you need to change?” Louis nods. “Door on the right. The left one is a sauna.”

        “Cheers.” He smiles and goes in.

        When he comes back, there are two beers on a table, and _Queen_ coming from the speakers. Harry is a fan of classics. Harry is also shirtless. And- like, so is Louis, but. Fuck. Harry looks good shirtless. Louis prays he’ll make it through the day without having a coronary.

        He gets the beer and they both toast. _To summertime_ , Harry cheekily voices as their bottles touch. Then they drink. Then Harry pulls him in for a kiss.

        His hand is big and hot on Louis’ naked hip, and the singer goes pliant the second he grips him a little tighter. Louis closes his eyes and lets Harry’s tongue invade his mouth, circling Harry’s neck with his arm, which is still holding the beer, the other hanging loose by his side, holding his backpack.

        “Hi.” Louis says, voice hoarse, when Harry pulls away.

        Harry pecks his mouth once again.

        “Let’s go in.”

       

        The water is cool on Louis’ body, a welcoming contrast to how hot he is feeling, and it moves softly around his outstretched fingers. He dips his head under water and counts three seconds before going up, then shakes his hair and pulls his hand out, watching the drips falling from his fingertips, both transparent and opaque at the same time. They fall as if snatched by gravity, and he doesn’t even notice Harry fonding at him.

        In the breeze, his hand gets cold instantly, but his back is still warmed by the sun. Briefly, Louis thinks he could stay here for a long time, if only Harry stayed with him.

        They drink and they talk and they make out. Boy, do they make out! Louis has never had sex in the water – except for showers –, but he is seriously considering doing so, because the way Harry presses him against the pool wall is mental, is what it is. The other boy has one hand in his hair and the other one on Louis’ waist, that being _one of my favorite parts of your body_ , Harry whispered at some point.

        Louis kisses him hungrily, like Harry’s the last droplet of water in the whole world, which is quite funny, since they’re currently surrounded by it. His hands work without him having much control of them, and when Harry decides to attack his neck, Louis’ nails scratch the other boy’s back, making him let out a guttural sound right below Louis’ ear.

        It never goes further than that, though. They’re both achingly hard, and they’re both aware of it, but neither moves their hands further. There’s still some getting to knowing to be done, some laughs to be exchanged, some memories to be shared. Unconsciously, or not, they know a quickie inside of a pool is not going to be enough for their first time together.

        Because Louis and Harry are, lacking a better word, _special_. And they know it from the very start.

        “Hey,” Harry calls, peppering kisses all over Louis’ face. “Look behind you.”

        Louis turns around, only a bit scared of facing Los Angeles from inside of a pool – he was fine on the other side, but it is a whole other thing to be pressed against the edge wall itself –, but when he does so, the view is breathtaking.

        “Told ya we’d get to see a proper sunset today.” He says, hugging Louis from behind.

        Louis melts into his body easily, rolling the back of his head on Harry’s collarbones.

        “It’s beautiful.” He whispers.

        The sky starts to change before their eyes and Louis can hear birds sing as the yellow ball of fire changes into hues of orange and then almost tangerine, cutting through the pink that starts to make an appearance. It all merges in the sky like a juice mix dissolving in a glass of water. The clouds are cotton candy at this point, almost as though they blush at the warm touch of the sun. The birds Louis hears fly home across the sky as it slowly turns magenta, and the more the sun disappears, the more complete Louis feels, somehow.

        The mauve of the sky intensifies, and in just a little while, a fickle, small moment, the biggest star sets, giving way to a thousand others that are to come. As the breeze blows, Louis’ skin tingles, but he is only a little bit cold, Harry providing him all the warmness he needs at this moment in time.

        Louis feels like he’s in a fairytale; one that doesn’t require princes or princesses, even though Harry looks like royalty and they are in a castle. Quickly, he realizes, and tells Harry:

        “This is the kind of moment people write songs about.” He turns around then, what he believes to be a soft smile on his face.

        “Oh, there you are!” A female voice exclaims before Harry can get a word out, and both of them turn in the direction of it.

        Louis curious, Harry in simple recognition.

        “José said a strange car parked, but Andréa didn’t see you all day. Plus, you weren’t picking up your phone. We got worried. Sorry.” She keeps saying. _She_. Anne Cox. Worldwide famous model. Sometimes actress. Harry Styles’ _mom_.

        “Sorry, mom.” He replies naturally. “Was a bit busy,” he chuckles. “Didn’t know you’d be coming early.”

        “It’s eight pm, darling.” Anne answers almost apologetically. “Busy, uh?” She smirks, and Louis swears he sees the female version of this boy.

        And, well, of course they’d resemble each other, they’re _mother and son_. But it’s just… They’re really similar.

        Harry blushes.

        “This is Louis, mom. We’re on a date, by the way. Were. Cause you ruined it.” He tells her cheekily. “Lou, this is my mom.”

        Louis has never “met the parents”. But if he ever imagined meeting some, he definitely wasn’t shirtless, wet and caught by surprise in that scenario.

        He’s just gonna have to adjust.

        “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Cox.”

        “Likewise… Louis.” She says. “I expect you both downstairs for dinner in half an hour. Please do not be wet.” Then she winks, and walks away.

        Louis hears high heels clicking on the hardwood stairs, but other than that his mind just plays a constant song called _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_.

        “So.” Harry laughs. “I’m sorry.”

        “It’s okay.” Louis says truthfully. “Although I’m not entirely convinced you didn’t know she was coming. I bet you’re trying to convince me to go steady already and this is your master plan to get me to say yes.” He replies, now a bit bothered by the water turning cold around them, already making his way out.

        Harry follows him suit.

        “I swear it wasn’t. Also, I was gonna wait at least one more week before asking you to _go steady_ , please.” He snorts. “Also, _no one_ uses that term anymore.”

        “Whatever, Harold.” He rolls his eyes, makes light of the situation and grabs two towels. One for him, one for the other boy.

        “Hey. You know you don’t have to stay, right? I can sneak you out and tell mom you had a meeting, or something.”

        “And pass on _food_?” The singer jokes. “There’s still so much you need to learn about me, Harry Styles…”

        Louis walks towards the sauna, where he’s sure there is a shower, and is sure he hears Harry saying _can’t wait_.

        Dinner is as fancy as one would expect it to be, but it’s also comfortable, in a way. Although huge, the table is set for only three people, and Anne doesn’t take the head of it as Louis would’ve expected. She sits on the side, leaving Harry at the head so he’s able to be closer to Louis, going to his rescue whenever necessary.

        They make small talk for the first part of it. She tells Harry about her day and he tells her about his, and Louis doesn’t want to intrude much, but speaks when things are directed to him. It isn’t awkward, but he _feels_ weird. He’s not sure why until she asks him a direct question.

        “So, where are you from, Louis? You’re not American.”

        “Nah,” he replies. “I’m from a small town in England called Doncaster. It’s almost out of the map.”

        “A Brit.” She smiles warmly. “What did you come to LA for?”

        “Work.” He answers simply. “But I still go home sometimes.”

        “You a struggling actor then?” Anne jokes.

        Harry chokes on his juice and laughs. Louis hates him.

        “I’m a singer.”

        “Oh.”

        “Yeah.”

        “You never told me where you met Louis, H…” She looks at her son, a warm yet worried expression across her face.

        “The club, actually. Louis simply showed up one day and flirted with me.”

        “That’s- _outrageous_ , considering the fact that _you_ airdropped me your number.”

        “Because you kept staring at me?”

        They both chuckle. So does Harry’s mother, who takes the opportunity to sip from her glass of wine. Louis is the only one drinking juice, not really in the mood to mix the beer from earlier with anything else.

        “D’you play at the club, then?” She asks Louis. “Or were you looking for a job?”

        “Uh…”

“Mom!” Harry laughs. “Oh my God, this is _hilarious_.”

Anne frowns, but Louis knows exactly what he is talking about. So he looks at Anne and decides to share what has just become a really funny story with her.

“Neither.” He answers. “Wanna know a secret?” He asks her and she nods, a bit confused. “First day I met Harry, I was just about to have lunch with a couple of friends… One of them actually reprimanded me for wanting to go out with him.”

        “Which one?” Harry frowns.

        “Why?” Anne asks at the same time.

        “Zayn.” Louis tells him and chuckles. “He thought the caddie was in it for my money.” He winks.

        “ _I would never!_ ” The other boy says waaaay to shocked, as if Louis didn’t already know. “Had you told him about…?” He gestures uncontrollably.

        “I didn’t really know, did I?” Louis looks at him pointedly. “But then Niall clarified things.”

        “I don’t get why this is funny, though.”

        “Harry!” Louis exclaims. “Your mom has no idea of who I am, and she thinks I’m interested in you because you’re rich.” He laughs, louder than he intended. “Don’t you, Mrs Cox?”

        “I’m guessing you _aren’t_ a struggling musician?” She voices, now amused.

        “No, I’m not. It’s very refreshing that you think so, though.” He sighs.

        “Mom. He’s Louis Freaking Tomlinson. He’s in One Direction, just about the biggest boy band of the decade. I’m sure you’ve heard of them…?” He looks at her.

        “Oh my!” She places both hands on her mouth. “The boy you-? But-”

        “Let’s _not_ go there.” Harry asks her. _Pleads_ her.

        “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!” She looks at Louis apologetically.

        “That’s okay.” Louis says. “I don’t mind. What is _not_ okay is to think someone would be interested in Harry only because he’s well off. That’s what my friend implied about me and it sucked.” He shrugs. “Sorry. I’m just… Saying.”

        Anne spends a few seconds silent. Harry is all the stars in the universe, beaming at Louis with a power still unseen to human kind, the singer believes.

        “You’re right.” She finally says. “I’m sorry, baby.” She looks at Harry. “You know how much I worry, though.”

        “Yeah, mom. But he’s… Right.”

        “He is.” She smiles. “I’m glad you two are dating.”

        “Uh- thanks?” Louis chuckles.

        After that, dinner goes a bit better, but still strained. They share a couple of stories about their trips and Anne seems genuinely interested in One Direction, tells Louis that a couple of their songs are on her morning workout playlist, which… Nice, Louis guesses.

        Anne is not nearly as approachable as Harry, Louis realizes, but she is a good person; she _is_ kind and warm, she’s just… Really beautiful, and really proud, according to Harry, and it all translates to being a bit terrifying as well. Plus, there’s the whole _being a mom_ thing, so. Yeah. Louis likes her. He thinks he’ll like her better once he’s not scared of her.

        “You fancy dessert?” She asks.

        “Yeah, but you will have it _upstairs_.” Harry says. “Please, mom?”

        Anne sighs. “Just because I have to shower and go to bed early,” she gives in and gets up. “Louis Tomlinson from One Direction, give me a hug, please.” She then asks.

        Louis gets up and goes around the table, meeting her halfway and hugging her. He can see Harry behind her shoulders, also standing up, and he doesn’t feel so out of place anymore.

        “I’m sorry again, dear.” She whispers. “You’re the first guy Harry’s brought here since he broke up with his ex-boyfriend. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t a jerk either.”

        “Mom, I can hear you.” Harry warns her.

        “That’s quite all right, I’m done embarrassing you.” Anne chuckles and pats Louis on the arm. “I guess I’ll see you soon?”

        “See you soon, Mrs Cox.” He smiles.

        “Anne.” She corrects him. “You sleeping here tonight?” She then asks, turning to Harry.

        “ _Yes,_ ” he rolls his eyes. “I’ll say goodnight later. Now, _bye_.” Harry smiles and presses a kiss to her cheek.

        Anne goes up and they head to the kitchen, where Louis meets Andréa, a Hispanic middle-aged woman, with black, long hair and a welcoming smile on her face. Dessert consists of really hot chocolate cake with ice cream and chocolate icing, and they both sit at the island, talking to her while eating. It tastes _so_ good.

        When Louis compliments her on it, she tells him it was actually Harry who taught her how to make it when he was around seventeen. Which is how Louis learns Harry wasn’t lying when he said he’d _cook_ them something for dinner.

        “If mom hadn’t showed up and ruined everything, I would’ve told Andréa to go to bed earlier and taken control of the kitchen, but oh well.” The boy sighs.

        “Your mother did not ruin everything, Harry Styles.” Andréa hits him with a kitchen cloth and they both chuckle.

        “She did. Now Louis is all scared and weird.” He whines.

        “Am not.” Louis replies and then frowns at Harry, who simply shrugs and gestures towards their plates.

        So they eat, and change the topic of conversation. Andréa tells a story or two about Harry and her daughter Alice growing up _with all this land_ , is how she puts it, and Louis is delighted to learn more about him. Andréa kind of reminds Louis of his own mother, someone who loves having children running around and actually misses it. His heart aches for Jay – his mom – and he makes a mental note to call her tomorrow morning, when it’s a decent time in England.

        When Andréa finally finishes washing the dishes, she says she’ll go home (Louis finds out she and José have a smaller house _on the land_ ) and Harry asks Louis if he wants to go for a walk in the garden. _The flowers are prettier during the day, but the weather is nice, and I don’t wanna say goodbye yet_.

        It’s a bit dramatic, but Louis holds his hand and doesn’t let go. Not for the first time, and definitely _not_ for the last, he lets Harry guide him wherever he wants to.

 

 

-

 

 

        “D’you really think your mom scared me away?” Louis raises the question in the lowest of voices, stopping before what he believes are peonies.

        “I mean. Yes?” Harry chuckles. “C’mon, Lou, this is a _second_ date, or did you forget?”

       “Yeah, but.” He shrugs. “It’s not like anything about us dating has been conventional thus far, right?”  

        “Lunch was pretty conventional.”

        “I mean- how we met and… Who I am. And who you are. And just- I don’t know. Having dinner with your mom on our second date wasn’t the worst thing in the world, is what I’m saying.”

        “But it was awkward.”

        “Yes. A little.” Louis acknowledges. “But it was all right, in the end,” he shrugs. “And it definitely wasn’t enough to scare me away.”

        “I’m sorry she didn’t know who you were. My dad would have, I’m sure.”

        “I’m not that conceited, please,” he snorts. “I don’t need everybody to know who I am. Your mom’s out of my band’s scope anyways. Like I said, it was refreshing.” The singer looks at Harry then. Harry’s beautiful underneath the sunlight, but there’s something about nighttime that is making Louis’ heart race.

        With all these flowers around them, there isn’t a single one which’s beauty could match Harry’s.

        “C’mere.” Louis pulls him closer, kisses him on the lips.

        “Does that mean you still want me to go to Niall’s party?” He can feel rather than see Harry’s smile spreading, and kisses his lips anyways.

        “Yes.”

        “Ok,” Harry whispers. “Okay, good.” Then he kisses Louis again.

        The singer doesn’t think he’s ever going to get tired of kissing this boy right here, but, for what it’s worth, he’s very sexually frustrated at the moment, ever since he had to will his hard on down a couple of hours ago, so he keeps the kiss as chaste as possible; then, against his body’s wishes, pulls away.

        “I should get going. It’s like- really late.” Harry whines. Louis laughs. “I can wake up whenever I want. You, however, need to be at work early in the morning.”

        “Don’t remind me.” Harry complains. Then adds: “ten a.m. is hardly _early in the morning_.”

        “Basically _dawn_ to me.” The singer replies and Harry laughs, so he has to kiss his stupid lips again. “Walk me towards my car, please.”

        They walk for almost ten minutes until they reach the garage, but Harry admits he takes the longer path just so they can spend more time together. Their hands sway between their bodies and often touch, but neither makes a move to entwine their fingers. Wouldn’t make much sense now, with Louis leaving and all.

        Once in the garage, Louis spots Harry’s Mercedes, the moto he rode the day before and a blue Volvo that looks brand new. It suits Anne, Louis decides. He can almost picture her driving it, all posh and whatnot. He smiles to himself, then looks at Harry.

        “Had a really good day, H.” He voices. “And on the topic of… Things going weirdly fast, I feel like I should tell you that, uh- I’ve never been in a proper relationship. Just, never happened. Never had the time. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “But I’m not emotionally stunted and I don’t- I don’t know, I don’t runaway easily when I really like someone. Hmkay?”

        He shifts his weight and Harry stands a couple of feet away from him. It feels like the entire continent is between them and Louis starts to feel very uncomfortable until the other boy grabs his hand.

        “I’ve already been in a relationship. One, that clearly didn’t work. So in the last six months or so I decided to stop dating… But mainly because most people only wanted my… Status. I don’t think it was the money rather than the connections, and events, and paps.” He chuckles.

        “I know who your parents are but it’s _so_ hard to imagine you being proper famous.”

        “I’m out of your… What was the word you used? Scope. Yeah. So you just don’t notice it. I’m not a proper celebrity. I think Wikipedia defines me as a _public personality_ , because of who my parents are.” He chuckles. “Plus, I really do avoid the media as much as I can.”

        “Makes sense.” He nods.

        “Yeah. Point is…  I don’t think I’m emotionally stunted either,” he smiles. “And I don’t run away when I really like somebody. So it’d be a bummer if they ran from me.” The boy raises a suggestive brow.

        “Be assured that they won’t.”

        “Ok. Good.”

        “And just to wrap this up…” Louis drags. “I’m not looking for anyone else, okay? It’s fine if you want to keep your options open and party and- yeah. It’s been less than a week since we met. But I’m happy getting to know you. I’ll let you know if anything changes… But it’s really not likely.” He sighs again, tiredness getting the best of him, but what comes out is actually a chuckle.

        “I really fucking hope not.” Harry says fervently, and walks closer. “I already know that I don’t want to keep my options open. But we should revisit the topic in a while, yeah?”

        “Yeah.” Louis looks up at him with stars in his eyes. Stars that he is sure _Harry_ put in there. With a swift move of his thumb, he unlocks his car doors. “G’night, H.” He hugs him. “Thanks for today.”

        Harry hugs him tighter.

        “Thanks for coming. And- for everything else, Lou.” He mumbles over his shoulder. “Drive home safe, yeah?”

        “I will.” Louis pecks the other boy’s mouth and then gets in the car.

        Holy hell. The last time Louis had a week so intense it changed his entire fucking life was when he was about to become a worldwide popstar.

        He’s got the feeling that this week’s just like that one – but instead of fame and money, he’s about to get something infinitely more important.

           

 

-

 

 

        His mom knows instantly. Of course she does. Louis waits, because that’s what _he_ does. But Jay knows. And he knows she knows by the way she keeps letting him talk about unimportant things, never asking a real question, just humming along with his nonsense.

        Louis talks about the weather and redoing his deck. He talks about a bit of work and Liam’s new haircut and _when are you lot coming to visit?_ When he gets to _this_ question, his mother barks out a laugh.

        “What?” He asks, frowning to himself in the mirror. He has his mom on speaker while he shaves.

        _“Oh nothing, it’s just the first time since you bought this house you have invited us lot over there instead of saying you’d come here sometime.”_ She muses.

        No. It can’t be. But _is it_? His family has been here. Even the babies! Louis is sure they’ve spent Easter together here, when his grandfather was still alive. But then… Oh. Okay. It hits him. It’s the first time _he_ is saying that. Whenever his family came it was either his mom or Lottie, his sister, that organized for them to come.

        “Uh. Okay…” He trails.

        _“Why don’t you come visit, Lou?”_ His mom asks. _“Say… Next week? You don’t have anything lined up, do you, boo?”_

        “No, I—I don’t.”

        _“So come see us, love. It’s summertime here, the weather’s pleasant…”_ She pushes. _“Unless…_ ” Oh. There it is. _“Unless there is a reason as to why you don’t want to leave the United States right at this moment? Maybe?”_

Louis sighs.

        “What gave it away?” He asks.

        Jay literally screams on the other line. Shrieks.

        _“You sound chipper. Happier than in a long time. Airy. Like a proper school girl.”_

“Oi.”

        _“Fizz has a new crush. You two will have a lot to talk about. Need me to hand the phone to your fifteen year old sister?”_

“Shut it.” He pretends to be angry. Then there’s a pause. “Name’s Harry.” Louis gives in. “We’ve been on two dates, texted every day since we met. He’s… Good, mom.” He doesn’t know how else he can describe Harry.

        He could tell her that when he sees him he gets all warm inside and that he is pretty sure he can’t contain his facial expressions around the other boy. He could tell her that when Harry laughs the temperature rises a couple degrees and the whole world changes on its axis. And when he moves, everyone just stops and stares out of astonishment, he guesses.

He could tell her that his eyes are mischievous, and penetrating – but that still wouldn’t do them justice. Because Harry’s eyes are the kind of green that mint ice cream gets jealous of. The kind of green that distracts you from everything around. The kind of green that gets noticed even when you can’t see them, because they show straight through his personality.

        Louis could describe Harry in many ways to Jay, but it would never be enough. It wouldn’t because Louis kind of chokes by simply thinking of him.

        In the end, he just goes with the easy way:

        “He’s tall, handsome, funny. Smart. Caring, you could say. He’s just- really polite. And different. In the best way.”

        _“Sounds dreamy.”_ Jay says after a heartbeat.

        “He is.” The singer affirms. “He really is.”

        _“When are you seeing him again?”_ She asks.

        “Tonight.” Louis really does try to keep his grin at bay, but the mirror betrays him and shows just how big he is smiling.

        _“Good luck to us, then.”_

“Us?” He asks confused.

        _“Us. If you’re happy, then I’m happy. Plus, it’s about time you gave me a proper son-in-law.”_

“Mother!” He had just started washing his face. Water goes everywhere as he straightens up alarmed. They both laugh.

        _“I need grandchildren, Louis.”_

“You’re ridiculous. This is a _third_ date.”

        “ _Exactly. You know what happens on third dates. Wait. Has it already happened? You kids don’t have rules anymore, do you? In that case… Is he… You know… Good? In more ways than one?”_

“Johanna, I swear to God, _stop!_ ” Louis pleads. She laughs. She laughs because she knows he’ll answer. “It hasn’t happened yet. There are no rules, it just- felt right to wait, I guess.” Thank God he’s on the phone. Louis is blushing furiously at the moment.

_“Look at you, being proper romantic.”_

“Mom.” He whines.

        _“Lou.”_ She says back, voice a bit more stern.

Louis dries his face, takes his mom off speaker and walks back to his room, throwing himself on the bed right away.

He woke up early to do some _shopping! FOR FOOD! He’s exhausted of all the adulting he got done this morning._

        “I’m kind of scared of how much I like him already.” The singer admits. “Maybe I should talk to Fizz after all. It’s very teenage-y of me to be in this deep already.”

 _“It’s very human of you, Louis.”_ He can almost see her smile. Serene, adoring, proud. Then she voices it. _“I’m proud of you.”_

“I’m not doing anything, mom.” Louis mumbles.

_“Oh, darling. You’re doing so much! You’re brilliant, Louis.”_

Shit.

“I miss you.” He breathes out. “I really miss you. And everyone else. I’ll schedule a visit soon, I promise.”

_“It’s summer, Lou. Everyone’s on vacation. We could come to you, if you really meant it.”_

“Yeah?”

_“Of course, boo. And maybe meet Harry in the process…?”_

He’d say it’s too soon, but…

“Well. I _have_ met his mother.”

_“YOU WHAT?”_

And there goes at least forty more minutes of conversation.

        When he hangs up his cheeks are hurting because of how much he smiled. Also, when he hangs up, they’ve agreed on a date for everyone to come visit (two and a half weeks from now). He couldn’t be happier. And his afternoon nap is filled with good vibes.

 

-

 

        The first thing Louis notices when his uber pulls up Niall’s place is that the music is loud – as loud as thunder; the kind of loud that makes cutlery on the tabletops rattle, although Louis doubts there are tables with cutlery and tabletops inside. He pays the uber driver and thanks him right before stepping out of the car, not even dreading the flashes on his face. He’s in a good mood.

        The paps scream at him and he has half a mind to reply to them, but he doesn’t; he focuses on the amount of booze he will drink in just a couple of minutes. He turns around to smile for maybe a picture or two, sees the bodyguard getting close to him, but then another car stops and Harry comes out, and all cameras are instantly pointed at him. Paps scream at Harry just as loud as they screamed at Louis.

        Harry doesn’t look scared or uncomfortable. He smiles and says _how are you doing, mate?_

        Louis goes in before they get a picture of them both, and waits behind the bushes while Bandana Boy doesn’t come in. This was his first taste of Harry’s fame. Weirdly so, his first instinct was to protect the other boy.

        He looks at the house and neon lights flash everywhere like police sirens, but much more colorful. The party’s already in full swing and Louis wonders how Niall can get so many people together in such little time; because he _knows_ those people in there aren’t friends of friends. Those people in there are actually part of Niall’s friendship circle, or whatever the Irishman calls it, and Louis thinks it’s hilarious considering the fact that he barely knows five or ten people he’d like to hang out with in the whole of the United States; this is just Niall’s LA crowd.

        “Hello, stranger.” He hears a chuckling voice at the same time strong arms wrap around him from behind.

        He smiles before he can even _think_. Harry broke him.

        “Thanks for waiting for me.” Harry says and then kisses his cheek. Louis turns around and catches his mouth.

        “Hi.” He says when he pulls back, face still close to Harry’s.

        “Hi.” Harry beams. “Didn’t know we’d agreed on arriving at the same time.”

        “That’s because we didn’t. We’re just in sync.” Louis shrugs and smiles brightly at him. “Ready to go in? Liam texted, he’s already here. Also, Steve fucking Aoki is DJing!”

        “I know, Louis, I contacted him,” Harry rolls his eyes and pecks his mouth. “C’mon, babe, let’s go.”

        The singer shivers all over and Harry doesn’t even notice. Louis doesn’t know if Harry meant to say _babe_ or if it just slipped, but it did do things to Louis. He follows Bandana Boy into the house. He has a feeling that he’d follow Harry anywhere.

 

 

-

 

 

        When they get inside, Louis spots Liam immediately, because he’s already behind the bar making everyone drinks. No matter how many mixologists they hire, Liam always ends up being a favorite. Louis pulls Harry by the hand till they reach his friend, and when they get there, Liam surprises Louis with a hug and a loud greeting – thing is, Louis can tell he isn’t even drunk yet. Weirdo.

        “Hello to you too, Payno,” he laughs as he pats his friend on the back. “How are you doing on this lovely night?”

        “I’m happy to be here, mate. How are ya? And this is Harry, right? Hi, Harry!” Liam smiles and hugs Harry too. Harry goes easily – because that’s just who he is. “Glad to meet you, you know, officially.”

        “You too, Liam. Big fan.”

        “ _Oi_.” Louis pretends to be annoyed.

        “You’re in a _band_ , Louis. I am a fan of your _band_.”

        “Right.” He snorts, but very, very fondly.

        “You guys up to drinking something?”

        “Always!” Harry replies.

        “Later, mate, I’m gonna say hi to people first, I think.”

        “I am drinking, Liam, straight away. Pour me something.” Harry fake-orders and Liam goes behind the bar again.

        “Right away, Mr. Styles.” Liam says cordially and starts grabbing different things.

        “I’mma go look for Niall,” Louis says.

        “He was with a girl, you might not find him around.”

        “ _Already?_ ” Louis widens his eyes.

        “It’s Niall.” Liam shrugs and smiles.

        “I’ll go look for him, talk to other people. See you, lovely.” He presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek.

        “Not if I see you first,” Harry holds him by the hips.

        “ _That_ … Was horrible. _Adiós_.” He starts walking and Harry pulls him in again, placing his mouth right in Louis’ ear.

        “You coming back to me, right?” The other boy says, voice as low as the ambiance allows him.

        “Not if you come to me first.” Louis says lamely but Harry laughs. And that’s all that matters, really.

        He ends up getting a beer while talking to some of Niall’s friends, because he can’t, for the life of him, find him. He stops by Aoki’s booth and they catch up for a long while. Liam eventually finds them and lets Louis know Harry is mingling. The DJ lets Liam play with the songs for a bit, and then asks Louis if he wants to do shots with him, which is, you know, a great idea.

        Every time they meet Louis feels a bit star struck. There’s no way for him not to. Steve is a fucking monster when it comes to the music industry – the lad exchanges sleep for work every single night, and he still manages to look good, be nice and have a wife. Louis wonders what it takes to be that successful and complete in life. He wonders if he’ll ever get there. He hopes so.

        Three shots of tequila in and Niall shows up, mouth swollen and hair disheveled and Louis laughs loudly before hugging him, congratulating his mate on what seems to have been a very good hook up.

        “You ever gonna settle down, Nialler?” Steve asks, joking around and passing him a shot too.

        “Not if I have a say in it.” The Irishman winks.

        “A word of wisdom here…” A drunk Steve puts a hand around Niall’s shoulders and brings him closer. “This kinda shit doesn’t let you have a say in it, man. It just gets you, and when you notice… Boom. You’re hooked. Happens so fucking fast.” He slurs. “I fell in love with my wife in one week.” He winks.

        “A week?” Louis asks.

        “I swear.”

        _So it is possible_ , he thinks. Then shakes his head. Fuck, he’s had too much tequila already.

        “O-kay. I think I’m gonna go dance. Please take Liam out of that booth.” Louis changes topics.

        “He’s actually doing a decent job,” Steve jokes. “Has Liam ever gone into producing?”

        “A bit. For the band.” Louis says. “We all like to play with lyrics and melodies when we’re in the studio.”

        “We should schedule a session,” Steve says.

        “I’m so in!” Niall says.

        “Me too. Just text us when you’re free, yeah?” Louis asks. “We’re on a break, so we have more free time than you do, I’m sure.”

        “Heading for Vegas tomorrow, but yeah- sure.” The DJ smiles. “Gonna go help Liam out. You two have fun. And Louis, try not to grind too hard on Harry on the dance floor, please.”

        “I- how’d you?—”

        “Mate, you arrived together. And your eyes follow him everywhere.” He winks. “Known Hazza since he was a kid. Take care of him.” And then he walks away.

        “Am I really that obvious?” Louis whines, turning to Niall.

        “You are absolutely hopeless.” His friend replies. “It’s beautiful to watch. Now go. Grind on him as much as you want, just please take it upstairs if it gets too much.”

        “I do not have an exhibitionism kink, Niall.” Louis snorts.

        “Wasn’t talking ‘bout you.” Niall says and shoves Louis on the shoulder. All right then.

        The music spins around them lifting away gravity. Louis loses count of how many times he has squished Harry’s foot under his own and vice versa. Still, he smiles brightly as Harry spins around him all over the floor; Harry’s just like Niall: he knows everybody. Louis is in awe of how he can give everyone attention and still come back to him.

        He watches as the other boy’s hair spins out and bounces more with each move and beat. This is perfect. _He_ is perfect. He is life happening before Louis’ eyes, the singer thinks. His lanky form moves for fun – strong pointed moves don’t really matter there. All that matters is that he’s having fun, _they’re_ having fun, and as the people around them cheer when the song changes, Louis simply pulls Harry closer, too tired of dancing apart.

        “C’mere,” he says and Harry goes easily, one hand going to Louis’ nape and another one to his waist.

        “Can I kiss you?” Harry asks. “You are not a fan of PDA, are you?”

        “I… Am not.” Louis says truthfully. “But there’s something about you, Harry Styles…” He trails and pulls Harry’s head down, kissing him passionately and deeply from the very start.

        Harry responds immediately: fierily, passionately and demandingly. Louis takes a deep breath through his nose and takes one step further, connecting their bodies from head to toe, for the first time since he was a teenager not caring about anyone around them. Their tongues entwine and work a rhythm that is already uniquely theirs, and Louis almost loses his mind with how good it all feels.

        Because here’s the thing: this is a kiss. Louis has kissed many people throughout his life; for a period of time there, he used to kiss many people in one night. So it _is_ a surprise to him that when he kisses Harry it is different than everyone he has ever kissed. Harry tastes different, feels different. Better. Harry is so much better. Harry’s the only one that’s ever made the world disappear, the noise go silent, the ground go still.

        It scares Louis, how fast he’s drifting, so he stops the kiss and lets his surroundings settle in around him again, then turns around and fits his back on Harry’s front, who grips him tightly and pulls him in, aligning his crotch with Louis’ ass and almost dragging a moan out of the singer’s throat. _Not yet._

       

        Louis notices few things as they dance. He notices Niall dancing in circles around everyone and singing loudly to songs Louis has never heard before; he notices Liam talking to two girls in a corner and he notices some acquaintances eyeing him with surprised looks on their faces. But mostly, Louis focuses on Harry.

        He focuses on how he is so sweaty that his shirt is not only clinging to his body but wetting Louis’ entire back. He notices his hands never loosen around him, but they roam his body anyways, going from his thighs and back up his chest. He notices that Harry’s mouth attaches to his neck when Drake starts singing and that it only leaves the spot when Drake’s turned into The Weeknd. He notices that by the time DNCE starts singing about _sex_ on the beach, Harry’s already fully hard behind him, and Louis grinds back reveling in the feeling.

        Harry pushes forwards and fits his length right in the middle of Louis’ ass, and he feels it because today of all fucking days he decided to wear jeggings – he feels very, very lucky. Harry holds one of his hands, and Louis rolls his neck to the side, looking up at the other boy and opening his mouth as he moves his hips on Harry’s cock, the fabric of their clothes separating them, but making it all the more sensual, Louis thinks so.

        He kisses Harry’s neck wetly and Harry moves his hands to Louis’ stomach, holding him there, applying pressure to his body so it doesn’t go even a centimeter away from his own. You know the thing he said about not being an exhibitionist? He might have to rethink that.

        Louis turns around and steps back in Harry’s space right away, connecting their clothed dicks and their mouths in the process, grabbing Harry’s biceps as Harry grips his bum and massages both cheeks, pulling him in, in, in.

        “This is crazy, we can-can’t-” Louis breathes out, voice already fucked up. Jesus Christ.

        “Why not?” Harry asks hoarsely in his ear, presses impossibly closer. Louis can feel his _heartbeats_ for fuck’s sake. “You’ve no idea how close I am,” he whispers and sucks Louis’ bottom lip for effect.

        Louis lets him have his way for two seconds. And then:

        “Because the first time I make you come,” he says, “it’ll be inside me.”

        At that, Harry’s breath hitches and he curses way too loudly.

“What?” Louis asks, a bit alarmed.

        “You don’t say things like that when my dick is on the verge of falling off and expect me not to come.” Harry explains. Louis barks out a laugh. “Stay away from me.” He warns seriously.

        Louis laughs more.

        “There’s a free room upstairs with our names on it, did you know?” The singer asks, coming closer again. Harry doesn’t stop him.

        The other boy smiles mischievously.

        “Race you,” he says before taking off.

        With the door closed, every pretense falls. Not that were many before, but now it is pretty clear that they have one common objective here: fuck each other’s brains out. Every kiss has a raw intensity, and Louis is so on board with it that he lets Harry pin him to the door and kiss him faster, deeper, while both hands work on his jeans, opening his trousers and instantly placing both hands on Louis’ bum, underneath his pants. Louis emits a guttural sound and scratches Harry’s arm, rolling his head on the door and changing the angle of the kiss, his own hands working on taking his trousers off, so they can have more space.

        Harry gets what he is doing right away, and before they know it, they’re both down to their pants, between kisses and hickeys and hands all over. Their skin moves softly together, in contrast to everything else, like the finest of silk.

        He feels a hot breath on his neck, then a tender brush of lips, burning as they make contact with Louis’ body. Harry runs a hand through his hair as he french kisses the singer’s throat and Louis gets harder, his whines getting more urgent as he massages Harry’s bulge through his boxers. Another hand slides around Louis’ waist and Harry pulls him closer, finally disconnecting his body from the door and walking him to the bed.

        Harry’s kisses are now on his shoulders and back. Hands traveling down Louis’ body as the singer kneels on the bed, eyes closed, hands hanging loose by his sides, feeling a bit useless but not wanting to move.

        “Were you serious about me fucking you?” Harry asks, catching Louis’ earlobe between his teeth.

        “Yes, _yes,_ ” he affirms.

        “All right.” Harry breathes out and Louis thinks this is his cue to lie on the bed.

        When his back hits the pillow, Harry is right there, hovering over him, both hands by the sides of his head. As Louis has previously stated, everything else is white noise, and in the dark of the room, the moon dances over Harry’s body illuminating only one side of his face, and right now Louis thinks this is all he needs.

        Harry has that kind of face that stops you in your tracks and it doesn’t help that he’s very modest with it; Louis thinks Harry has made more people fall in love with him than he has fingers on both hands. Because here’s one of the many things Louis is quickly learning about Harry Styles: he’s handsome all right, but inside he is _beautiful_.

        Louis tells him as much, and leans forwards to catch his bottom lips between his teeth as he works on the other boy’s pants, finally wanting to give them both a bit of release.

        As soon as Harry’s cock is out, Louis wraps a hand around it, making half of Harry’s body fall on top of him, and the singer wanks him slowly, getting used to the heaviness and length of Harry’s dick, bringing one hand to the other boy’s head and massaging his scalp as he drags slow, tiny moans from Harry’s mouth, each of them coming as some kind of reward. The best kind.

        Harry’s voice is deep whenever he speaks, but now it has that rich, silky tone, that makes Louis think he’d be able to control the world with it if he wanted to. Harry’s voice reminds Louis’ of a stormy day; a nice one. Harry is a storm that shakes the ground with its vibrations.

        Louis feels rather than sees when Harry regains a bit of composure and takes the singer’s pants off too, and as he frees Louis’ dick, Harry takes a deep breath before sliding down his body, removing both of their boxers completely.

        “Do we have lube?” He asks as an afterthought. “I have condoms, but-”

        “There’s gotta be a package in my wallet.” Louis voices, not recognizing his own tone. He hasn’t been fucked yet, but he sure as hell sounds like it.

        Harry gets up to go search for the lube and Louis makes himself more comfortable on the bed, going to the center and spreading his body and feeling every muscle in his body stretching with it.

        “You’re a fucking view, I swear to God.” Harry says from somewhere in the room, but Louis doesn’t really look; instead, places a hand on his own dick, trying to relieve himself a bit.

        With his eyes closed, he doesn’t feel Harry approaching the bed, but when he does, he licks Louis’ shaft before even climbing on the mattress, and Louis arches his back as if on command, only Harry doesn’t say anything, just takes Louis’ cock in his mouth and swallows him whole before going to the tip and sucking him again.

        “I could do this all fucking night, you taste so good.” He voices, kissing Louis’ thighs, running his hands on his torso, ribs, and nipples. “But you put something in my mind, and now I can’t _un_ think it.” But then he goes back to Louis’ dick as if he is starved for it, spreading Louis’ legs so he can fit in between and making Louis roll his eyes to the back of his head.

        Holy fuck.

        “Ha- _HARRY,_ ” Louis all but screams when the other boy lifts his body from the mattress, making his dick hit the back of his throat. “F-fu- _fuck_ _me_ ,” he whines, eyes shut, hands grabbing the sheets so he doesn’t fuck Harry’s throat any longer.

        “Shit,” Harry whispers then turns Louis around as if the singer weighs nothing, pushing Louis’ ass to the air and grabbing both of his cheeks again on a tighter than tight grip. “I wanna eat you out.”

        _“MY God, Harry.”_ Louis moans into the pillow and feels his hole contracting on air just at the thought of it.

        “But I’m about to come again so it’ll have to wait.” He says and then bites the back of Louis’ left thigh, almost making Louis’ fall forwards again.

        The singer turns around and looks at him, seeing how destroyed Harry’s face is, too, and feeling a bit better that he isn’t the only one about to completely lose it.

        “C’mon, Styles.” He says and wiggles his bum in the air. “Fuck me good before I decide to ride you.”

        “I don’t know how _that’d_ be a bad thing,” Harry says as he gets the small package of lube, coating two of his fingers carefully. “How’d you want this?” He asks.

        “Fast. Rough.” Louis says, and doesn’t even feel embarrassed. “Show me what you got.” He smirks and Harry groans, but does as asked and Louis doesn’t have time to even think about anything else as the other boy inserts a long, steady finger inside him.

        From then on, the universe is brown curls and green eyes, and Louis thinks that, for the first time in his life, he understands what sex is supposed to be like.

 

 

-

 

 

        When Louis wakes up, the first thing he registers is that he is sore, and he smiles before he even opens his eyes. The sunlight is coming through the windows and Louis wonders when the hell Niall is going to get curtains in here. It’s been like this since he rented this place a year or so ago, and he’s always ranting about it on his sleepovers, but his friend never seems to listen to him.

        Louis laughs at himself for thinking something so strange, but Harry isn’t here, and his side of the mattress feels cold even though it isn’t, and Louis wonders where he’s gone until he notices his phone by his side. And it definitely wasn’t here when they slept.

        He then clicks on the side button so he can check the time, and there is a text from the other boy there.

        **_Making breakfast downstairs. Come when you’re ready._**

And also:

        **_Good morning, sunshine._**

        Louis is alone, but he still hides his face in the pillow as he lets a smile take over his entire face.

        Freshly showered and in last night’s clothes, Louis goes down the stairs and assesses the situation of the living room. It isn’t even that bad, and there are people working on it already. He yawns through a good morning and continues making his way to the kitchen.

        He doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t. But here’s what he overhears while he’s approaching the kitchen:

        “You just tell him, Hazza,” Niall speaks nonchalantly.

“Okay. But how do you casually tell someone their existence is the highlight of your day?” Harry asks back. Louis doesn’t even bother to contain another huge grin. “I’m scared I’ll scare him away.” He voices his concern.

        And Louis decides to walk in.

        “Morning, Lou,” Niall chuckles as he enters the space, and Harry turns around with a hand on his hip and the other holding a frying pan.

        The other boy looks pale, scared that Louis’ heard something he shouldn’t. Which he did. So the least he can do is ease Harry’s worries.

        “Morning, Ni,” he says back, then walk towards Harry.

        Harry turns off the stove and turns to him with a frown between his eyebrows. Louis passes his forefinger there, and Harry relaxes instantly.

        “Ever since we met,” he starts, not really minding Niall’s presence. He’s one of his best friends. There’s nothing they don’t tell each other anyways. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t obsessed over you.” Louis pecks Harry’s lips. “Your existence has been the highlight of my days since you were just a face in a car behind mine. We’re on the same page here, Curly.” He winks, then kisses him again. “ _Now_ , what are you cooking?” Louis says louder and finds a stool to sit on, right by Niall’s side.

        “Uh-”

        “He’s cooking for _me_ first, stop.” Niall says.

        “Wha-”

        “He did wake up earlier.” Harry reasons and raises an eyebrow.

        “Did he give you two orgasms last night too?”

        “OH, GRO- you know what, I don’t care.” Niall shrugs. “And I guess two orgasms trump two years of a beautiful friendship these days…” He pretends to sob.

       “If Harry’s cooking for anyone first, then it’s me.” Liam enters the kitchen, only wearing his pants. “We’ve just met properly. He needs to conquer my heart.”    

        “And conquer your heart I will.” Harry says, a cheeky smile on his face as he sends Louis a kiss.

        The singer simply rolls his eyes. Once again, he doesn’t pretend he isn’t the happiest bastard on planet Earth. Instead, he motions for Harry to sit across from him, and together, they all eat and joke and bond.

        If Louis calls Zayn later just to tell him what he’s missed, then it’s only because Harry insists he still needs to meet _one_ band mate. Needless to say, by the time the skype session is over, all hearts have already melted for Harry Styles. But only one of them starts to fit in his hands, and rely perfectly and fully on them.

       

 

-

 

 

        The first time Harry sleeps over is also the first time he actually talks about his parents. Funnily enough, it happens to be one day before Louis’ family arrives in the US.

        Louis has just gotten home from a session with a girl band when his phone vibrates with Harry asking if he can come over. Sappily enough, the singer thinks that Harry shouldn’t even have to ask, because the answer is always going to be yes, but he still types a very happy _sure, love_ and decides on taking a shower before the boy arrives.

        Harry enters the house carrying a backpack and two supermarket bags, and Louis’ heart gets bigger just at the sight of Bandana Boy. He’s too much.

        “Hey,” Harry says happily as he starts walking towards the kitchen before even kissing Louis’ properly.

        He’d say he got angry, but that’d be a lie. In fact, Louis cheers internally that Harry is already so comfortable with his house, and wonders if this could ever become a normal occurrence. He really hopes so.

        “Hi,” Louis greets him, having followed Harry to the kitchen. “How was your day?” He asks as Harry turns around to peck his mouth.

        “A bit tiring,” Harry grimaces. It’s the first time Louis is seeing him act less than excited about working at the Country Club.

        “Did anything happen?”

        Harry sighs. He does look exhausted. The other boy lets his head drop, chin on his chest, and Louis pulls him closer, giving him a tight hug.

        “All right?” He asks in a small voice as Harry sags into his body.

        “Much better now,” Harry admits. “I’m sorry I came here like this, I just- I just needed to see you.” Another heavy sigh.

        Louis tightens his arms around Harry.

        “I’m glad you did, H.” He tells him truthfully. “And don’t apologize. You’re always, always welcome.” At that, Harry recoils and smiles a weak smile. Then he kisses Louis. It’s slow and a bit dry, but Louis lets him have his way. “D’you wanna talk about it?” Louis asks when they separate.

        “After dinner, yeah?”

        “Ohhh, we’re having dinner?” Louis smiles brightly.

        “We are.”

        “What are we having?”

        Harry’s eyes shine, as if he knows Louis is going to love it. Then he speaks.

        “Parmesan risotto with roasted shrimp.”

        “Harry!” The singer all but jumps. Harry chuckles. He looks happier already. “Okay. Do I need to open a bottle of wine?”

        “Have you got white wine?” The other boy asks back, already separating the ingredients.

        “Yes?” Louis kind of questions. “Yes.” He then remembers. _Zayn_ got him into white wine a while back. “Chardonnay or Pinot Bianco?”

        “Surprise me!” Harry smiles. Louis huffs out a laugh and goes back to the living room, taking the Pinot Bianco from the wine rack. As soon as he gets back, Harry’s smile _widens_. “A man after my own heart!” He exclaims.

        _Indeed_ , Louis mutters under his breath as he goes to the island to open it. Harry has barely started cooking and the kitchen smells amazing already. And to think Louis was going to eat frozen lasagna tonight…

        “How did you decide?” Harry asks with his back to Louis, already focused on the stove. Louis can count on his fingers the times he turned that stove on by himself. He can never figure this fancy shit out. Harry works it as if he’s had one for ages now.

        “Picked the less obvious choice. I mean, everyone likes Chardonnay.”

        “Your logic isn’t… Logical.” Harry chuckles.

        “Of course it is.” Louis replies, then pours some wine in a glass and walks towards Harry. “Getting almost on the wrong, ridiculous side of cheesy here… Nothing about you is obvious, and you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. So.” He shrugs.

        Harry turns to him immediately, kissing him square on the mouth.

        “Sometimes you make my heart beat so fast I think I’m on the verge of having a heart attack,” he says.

        “It’s mutual.” Louis smiles. “Now. Drink your wine, make me my food.”

        Louis kisses him again and lets him work.

        In his defense, the singer does try to help, but he ends up getting in the way. The only thing Harry allows him to do is grate the cheese and set the table, and Louis does a magnificent job at that.

        At some point he exclaims that _no one has ever grated cheese like this_ and Harry barks out a sweet, joyful laugh that is so loud that one could hear from a mile away; it echoes through the halls and into every room in the house, and Louis thinks it would cheer everyone up, if there were more people around.

        It always happens. Around Louis, Harry always laughs like that, and Louis, this humble, simple, unimportant human being feels like he is the biggest person in the entire planet, and every freaking time, without failing, he catches himself thinking about kids running around and hiding behind furniture. He never goes too deep into it, terrified of what it may mean, but he’s very aware that it’s there.

        It’s there right now when they are cooking together, but it was also there when they went to Niall’s for a FIFA tournament and when they decided to go bowling. It was there when Harry took him for another motorcycle ride and when Louis attempted – and failed – to teach Harry how to surf.

        The thought of having it this easy, this happy, of living this kind of life forever never really leaves Louis’ mind – not anymore. And as he and the guys start talking about a date for the band to get back together next year, Louis is already mentally organizing a schedule that allows him to get back here as much as possible.

        _Something permanent_ , it’s what he thinks every time he is with Harry. Every time whoever wakes up first sends a _good morning_ text and every time he goes to pick Harry up from work so they can go on an adventure. He thinks about _something permanent_ when he tells his friends from home he is seeing someone and he thinks about _something permanent_ when they’re having sex and Louis _almost_ asks if they can do it without a condom – he never does, it’s still too soon; but he still envisions it, and he still admits to himself, even this early, that he doesn’t want anyone else, _need_ anyone else.

        Because Harry is something permanent. Harry is _something great_.

        The food is ready in an hour, and by then Harry asks if he can take a quick shower before they eat. He leaves the risotto in the oven and Louis goes upstairs with him to give him a towel before the other boy goes into the ensuite.

        “You look like you could use a _bath_ … But I’m really fucking hungry,” Louis chuckles.

Harry smiles coyly.

        “Maybe later?” The other boy suggests, cheeks flushing instantly.

        _Later_. After food and wine. If there’s anything better than the thought of Louis and Harry in a bathtub with their tummies full and their skins buzzing with alcohol, then he needs to find out, because right now this sounds like heaven on earth.

        “Definitely later, love muffin.” Louis winks and exits the bathroom.

       

        They eat in the dining room, because Harry asks him to. Louis is used to eating either in the kitchen or on the couch, but Harry says it’s nice to use a table when you have one. He then proceeds to tell Louis about how he thinks a family should get together at least three nights a week to eat together, since every day is unrealistic (“although would be _goals_ ”), and that his sense of perfect life would definitely involve it.

        Louis listens to him and shares his thoughts, telling Harry that this is exactly what used to happen in his house when he was a lot younger. His mom never let them get away with eating anywhere else but at the table, together, sharing stories about their days and giving each other words of encouragement in case anything had gone wrong that day. Louis thinks this is how they got so close, and he tells Harry that too.

        “See, that’s what I’m talking about, it’s awesome,” he opens a huge smile, and then he goes silent.

        Harry sometimes has these moments, but he’s done it way too often today: he speaks, he smiles, then his eyes focus somewhere else or nowhere at all, as if his mind goes to a completely different place. Louis finishes chewing, drinks one more sip of wine, then places a hand on top of Harry’s.

        “Hey,” he calls him back to earth. “What’s going on?”

        The other boy looks at him a little bit defeated, a little bit relieved. Then sighs.

        “My dad’s in town,” then speaks.

        “Okay…”

        “He went to the club today.” Harry looks down, smiles bitterly. “I should’ve expected that, but I just- didn’t.” Louis stays quiet, but there are questions in his eyes he is sure Harry can read. “When I was seventeen and said I wanted to get a job, he offered me a position at the hotel… Said I could manage one of them, or help manage anyways.”

        “And you didn’t take it.”

        “Course not,” Harry responds quickly. “I didn’t know the first thing about management.”

        “Don’t you study business, though?” The singer frowns.

        “Yes. Because I do want to work with my dad, and I have every intention of _ruling his empire_ one day, as he so well puts it,” he smiles, but it’s a bitter one. “I just wanna be prepared for it. And he… Doesn’t get that. Didn’t when I was seventeen and doesn’t now.”

        “So you went and got a job at the club.”

        “I got a job at McDonalds first. And he went there and made the manager fire me.”

        “What?”

        “Yeah. He was too embarrassed to have a son that worked at McDonalds.”

        “That’s bullshit.”

        “Don’t I know?” Harry snorts. “But imagine- a private school kid, with every eye turned to him thanks to his mom… It sucked anyways. There were paps outside almost every day, because mom was in the middle of a huge campaign.” He explains. “So he made me get fired and I was so, so angry. No one else would hire me anywhere, my face was in the rags as if I were some teenager with a complex and just wanted to do that to defy my parents…”

        Louis squints his eyes.

        “… And maybe I was, at the time.” He gives in. Louis smiles. “But there was more to it, you know?”

        “Yeah.”

        “So mom got me a job at the club.” He shrugs. “I’d always liked golf, the hours weren’t bad, so I took it. Next month my dad became a partner.” The singer snorts. Harry grimaces. “Every time he is in town he goes there to have lunch, requests my presence at the table, and proceeds to humiliate me in front of everyone I work with.”

        “How so?”

        “He belittles them. Me. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “It just sucks big time.”

        “Sounds like your _dad_ sucks big time.”

        “He’s a good dad. He’s just always been wealthy.”

        “ _You’ve_ always been wealthy.”

        “Yeah, well. I don’t think the world’s beneath me.” But of course he doesn’t. Harry Styles is a _good, caring_ person. Louis is falling for him so, so fast he might as well be almost all the way there. “Plus, I haven’t done anything to deserve it. Not like… Not like _you_ did, for example.”

        “Harry.” He softens even more.

        “I just wanna _earn_ my money, before I have to control a billion dollar empire.” He voices. “I know it sounds stupid and borderline hypocritical. But I just wanna feel like I _deserved_ something.”

        “Oh, babe…” Louis gets closer, hugs him. “But you deserve so, so much.” He assures him. “And so much more than money. Trust me.”

        “I do.” Harry responds, head on his shoulder. “I trust you, Lou.” He says as Louis kisses his forehead. “I had a bad day, and you were the only person I wanted to spend time with; the only person I wanted to see.”

        “You feeling better?” Louis asks in a lower tone.

        “I am.” Harry smiles a serene smile.

        “Good.” The singer responds, kisses his forehead one more time before Harry straightens up. “Food was superb, you know?” He asks and Harry chuckles. “But now you’re gonna go upstairs and prepare the tub while I deal with the dishes. And I’ll meet you in a bit.”

        “I can help you.” Bandana boy offers.

        “I’m just gonna load the dishwasher, Harry, I can do it by myself.” He replies fondly. “Go.” Louis pecks his mouth. “Please.”

        “Hmkay…” Harry gets up.

        “Oh, and Hazz?” He calls him just as Harry’s starting to walk. “I bought some bath bombs… So you’ll finally bathe in pink water just like you said the other day.” He chuckles and turns around.

        “Hey, Louis?” Harry calls him. Louis looks back. “I…” He takes a deep breath. “I-”

        “Me too.” Louis says.

        “Yeah?”

        “Yeah.” He responds. _Oh God._ _Yes._

Louis loads the machine as fast as he can without breaking anything and goes upstairs to find Harry already relaxing in pink water and Jesus Christ he is stunning. Louis wonders if he will always be so perplexed before such beauty, if he’ll always need to wax poetry about Harry’s eyes and hair and body and whole being, if he’ll ever get accustomed to just look at him.

        He hopes not. Because this feeling in his gut every time Harry so much as breathes is the best thing that’s happened to Louis ever since One Direction started.

        He clears his throat and Harry opens his eyes. Harry looks so, so different from when he got here earlier. Calmer, happier, more relaxed. Silently, Louis strips down and gets into the tub, resting his back against Harry’s chest and letting the other boy draw circles on his thigh with the tip of his fingers.

        “What song is that?” He asks in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the moment as Harry’s playlist fills the room. It’s a habit of his, Louis has noticed. Harry always has music on when he’s showering.

        “’S called Prince of Nothing Charming,” Harry mumbles back, dropping a kiss to Louis’ bare shoulder.

        _And in the dark, she’s taking shots at my heart._

        “Wow,” Louis mutters. “Strong lyrics. I like it.” He decides.

        “I do too, which is funny, ‘cause I can’t relate to it.”

“Never had your heart broken?”

        “No. Not in that sense, anyways. You?”

        “Not in that sense, no.” He responds. “D’you think…” He turns his head slightly, facing Harry. “D’you think that maybe that’s why we’re so naïve?”

        “What d’you mean?” Harry frowns.

        “This. What we’re doing, we… I don’t know. We’re like- moving fast, Hazz. We _both_ are.”

        “And you think that’s naïve?”

        “I think people who have had their heart broken by relationships would think so.” Louis concludes. “Hey, don’t frown…” He smooths his wet forefinger between Harry’s eyebrows, droplets of water falling onto the boy’s face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I was just… Wondering.”

        “Hm…” Harry thinks. “Okay.”

        “Hey.” Louis says, kisses him on the mouth. “I was _just_ wondering, okay? I promise you I’m not getting cold feet or anything like that.”

        “Good. Because I don’t fancy getting my heart broken now.” Harry chuckles.

        “You think I’d break your heart?”

        “I think you _could_.” He stresses the word.

        “I don’t want to break your heart and I would _never_ do it on purpose.” The singer connects their foreheads.

        “But do you understand what I’m saying?” Harry asks. “I have never had my heart broken, but you, Louis Tomlinson, you _could_ break it.”

        “I do.” Louis kisses him. “I do understand it. But as long as you take care of mine, I’ll take care of yours. Deal?”

        “Deal.” And Harry kisses him again.

 

 

-

 

 

        In the morning, Harry goes flat-hunting while Louis goes to the airport to pick up his family.

        According to the boy, he’s been saving for a long while and it’s about time he leaves his mother’s house. Louis _knows_ Harry could’ve done it earlier had he accepted his trust fund money, but he also finds it noble that he decided to do it now that he has his own money to afford it.

       

        LA traffic keeps Louis from getting to the airport on time, and it takes him over an hour to finally arrive, but when he does, everyone is already freaking out because _I’m hungry_ and _the kids are sleepy_ and _we thought we’d meet Harry today_.

        Not everyone is here. Phoebe and Daisy, the older twins, are in Greece with Mark – Louis’ ex stepdad and _father_ , for all he knows. Lottie is with her boyfriend’s family in Italy, so there’s only _mom_ , Félicité, and the younger twins – Ernest and Doris. They seem, indeed, very sleepy, but Ernie still hugs him, and the little girl offers Louis a weak smile when she gets into the car.

        “Sorry, guys, I tried to get up earlier,” he says apologetically and his mom waves him off.

        “It’s all right, Lou. You’re here now,” she smiles.

        “Why _didn’t_ you get up earlier?” Fizzy squints her eyes as she puts on the seatbelt.

       “Reasons.” He replies and starts driving.  

        “Did your boyfriend keep you up all night?” She presses.

        Louis takes a deep breath before slapping her on the side of her thigh. She laughs loudly, Jay complains and the toddlers laugh, seeming more awake by the minute. It feels like home.

       

        As it turns out, it’s really hard to keep the kids awake throughout the day, though. They get to Louis’ house and run around for a while, and he lets them, helping his mother and sister put their things in their respective rooms and whatnot. They all go out for lunch and then for a walk down the beach, but paps spot Louis easily, and they decide to go back home.

        He texts Harry the entire time, and the other boy doesn’t seem to be having much luck with finding “the perfect apartment”, so Louis keeps sending him words of encouragement.

        “Mom, Doris is dozing off…” Fizzy says.

        “Don’t let her sleep now otherwise it’ll be a nightmare tonight, and God knows I need to sleep tonight.” Jay complains and Louis gets up, getting Doris from Fizzy.

        “Hey, baby, what do you say we play with your pretty dolls?” He asks, knowing that Ernest is way more interested in the game he’s playing on Louis’ iPad. Correction: trying to play. He’s not even four yet.

        “What doll, _Achoo_?” She asks in her little voice.

        “Any doll, baby. We can even have a tea party in the garden.” He offers.

        “Wait!” Doris says and then runs up the stairs, probably going after a pretty doll.

        “I can handle them both, you guys should rest…” Louis says.

        “I’m actually not that tired,” Fizzy says. “But I’m getting hungry again.” She chuckles. “D’you have food?”

        “There’s stuff to make, but H made a mean risotto last night and there’s still a lot… If you wanna put it in the microwave.”

        “So your boyfriend _did_ sleep here?” A smile plays on her lips. “Mom says you’ve been acting like a fifteen year old.”

        “ _You_ are a fifteen year old.”

        “Exactly, I get to act my age.” She winks and Louis dismisses her.

        “DORIS, where are you?” He screams, but there’s no answer. Jay frowns. “I’m gonna check on her.”

        When Louis gets to one of the guest bedrooms, his little sister is sleeping in bed holding her _pretty doll_ , and Louis’ heart melts right there. First thing he does is take a picture and send it to Harry.

 

        **_She’s so beautiful. Can’t wait to meet her_.**

**We still on for dinner tomorrow?**

**_Yes, definitely._**

**Found a flat?**

**_Yeah :)_**

**So happy for you, Hazz. Will call you tonight before bed.**

**_Alright xx._**

 

Louis smiles again and pockets his phone. He changes her clothes and makes a mental note for her to shower first thing in the morning. It’s already six pm, he _hopes_ she’ll make it to at least seven am.

        He makes his way back downstairs again and tells Jay that he put her to bed.

        “I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”

        “It’s okay, Ernie’s almost gone too…” Jay gestures to the ground, where his brother’s lying on the rug. “Fiz is reheating Harry’s risotto. Come here.” She asks with a serene voice and a tired smile on her face. “Have you talked to him today?”

        “All day,” he smiles back and sighs. “We texted,” he responds when he sees the question on his mom face. “He said he can’t wait to meet you guys.”

        “Have you told him I am very tough?”

        Louis laughs.

        “No, because you’re not.” He rolls his eyes. “His mom’s scarier.”

        “Well, his mom is a supermodel.”

        “Yeah, and she looks like one.” Louis comments and his mom frowns. “Like- Harry, he- he’s just normal, you know? Like me. I mean- I’m proper famous, I know. But if I’m home, I’m wearing sweatpants and eating Cheetos with beer and no one would believe I am… _Me_. Not Anne. She’s… You look at her and you know she is a model, and she’s filthy rich and all. It’s… Intimidating.”

        “You said she liked you, though…?”

        “I think she did. Harry says she did.” He chuckles. “God! That was our second date!” The singer exclaims in disbelief. “Feels like forever.”

        They both go silent for a while. Louis can hear Fizzy making noise in the distance and the iPad light finally goes out as Ernie lets it fall on the floor, where he’s also resting his head, sound asleep.

        Louis feels like it’s a perfect time for a confession.

        “I hope you love him, mom.” Louis says in a low voice.

        “Because you do?” She asks back, most definitely already knowing the answer.

        “Because I do.” He replies anyways.

 

 

-

 

 

        Louis turns and tosses in bed before he can fall asleep, even after he’s talked to Harry, but after he does it, next thing he knows is that there is a small hand on his face trying to wake him. He groans and opens his eyes slowly, just to find Doris there with her doll in hands and a sassy _Louis_ smile on her face.

        He smiles lightly and says _good morning, Dorie_ , then puts her on the bed. They talk in low voices as he helps her comb the doll’s hair, and he tries to explain to her that her Dad isn’t here because he’s at work, and they’re far, far away from London. He thinks she gets it, mostly, but she also doesn’t care much when he mentions going to the pool after breakfast.

        When Louis checks his phone, he sees it’s _seven_ still. But it’s fine, he can take care of his baby sister. After a while, they both go downstairs and he gets started on breakfast. Last night, before bed, Harry tried to teach him how to do certain things, so Louis starts putting things in motion. Before everything, though, he places Doris on a high chair and gives her a couple of strawberries just so she’ll entertain herself.

        He knows she’ll probably make a mess, but by then Jay will be awake to clean it up and give him the stinky eye. It’ll all work itself out.

       

        To his surprise, Fizzy is the one to come downstairs first, with Ernest in her lap.

        “Mom’s still asleep?” He asks.

        “No, think she’s in the shower.” His sister yawns. “Are you… _Cooking_?” She asks with the weirdest expression.

        “Trying.” He jokes.

        “Smells good.” Fizzy offers.

        “Thanks.” Louis replies. “Hey, little guy, good morning.” He then says, holding Ernest’s hand and kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Want some strawberries too?”

        “Yes!” He replies.

        “First say good morning, mister.” Fizzy tells him.

        “ _G’mowning_.” He answers and Louis laughs, handing him a strawberry too.

        “Since when do you have fruit in this house?” She asks.

        “Since Harry comes here.” He shrugs. “But also because I knew you guys would come, so I actually went to the supermarket.” Louis smiles and then turns off the stove. “There’s eggs to put on toast and bacon. I didn’t want to try pancakes, because we all know how it’ll end up.”

        “Terribly,” Fizzy chuckles as she starts to organize the plates, ruffling the toddler’s hair on the way. “Morning, mom,” she then says as Jay enters the room.

        “G’morning, children,” she replies.

        “Morning, mom,” Louis kisses her. “Juice? Tea? Coffee?”

        “All of the above?” Jay jokes. “You sit down and eat, I can sort myself out.”

        “Mom, pool now?”

        “Pool?”

        “I told her we’d go to the pool later…” Louis says.

        “Of course you did!”

        “C’mon, it’s hot outside, it’s summer, and we’re on vacation. We should all go to the pool.”

        “I’m _in_!” Fizzy says and it’s basically decided.

        They spend the better part of the morning and the afternoon in the sun, only stopping to eat and reapply sunscreen.

        Harry texts him a hundred times because he’s nervous about his outfit and Louis does his best not to roll his eyes. He knows exactly what Harry will end up wearing.

        When it’s four pm, they finally go inside and Fizzy goes up to shower. Louis is on babies-duty, being the one that volunteered to give them baths and get them ready for tonight while Jay cooks their food. It’s like they’re all preparing for a huge event when in reality it’s just his boyfriend coming for dinner.

       

        “Niall, we have a situation!” He says alarmed as soon as his friend picks up the phone. Both Doris and Ernest are in the bathtub and there’s foam everywhere. But Louis is having a crisis.

        _“What happened?”_

        “I just called Harry _boyfriend_ in my mind.”

        _“So?”_ His friend snorts.

        “So… I’ve never done it before. And we never talked about it.”

        _“Talk about it, dumbass.”_ Niall snorts. _“Lou, the other day a guy hit on Harry at the club, and Harry widened his eyes and said he was sorry, but he had a boyfriend.”_

        “He did?”

_“Yes, asshole.”_

        “Stop calling me names! I’m with my siblings and I can’t do the same,” he complains. Niall laughs out loud. “He really did call me his boyfriend?”

        _“Louis. Yes. Plus, he’s head over heels for you.”_

“He’s meeting mom tonight.”

        _“I know. We had lunch together. He was pissing himself, was so funny.”_ Niall jokes.

        “He doesn’t have anything to worry about…” He says fondly and holds the phone between his shoulder and his head, rinsing the soap from Ernest’s body. “He knows that, right?”

        _“I think so, but it’s still nerve wrecking, I reckon.”_

“Yeah… Yeah, it is.” Louis muses. “Step here, Ern, please.” He asks his brother and he obeys. “Okay, Doris, you’re next.” She comes closer to him, and he starts rinsing her hair.

        _“Hey, crisis averted?”_ Niall checks.

        “Yeah- yeah, sorry.”

        _“No problem, mate. I miss your mom, I’ll stop by sometime this week, yeah?”_

“Please, do.” Louis answers. “Thanks, Ni. For… Everything, you know? From the start. I’m very, very happy.”

        _“You’re welcome.”_ His friend replies and, for once, his tone is serious. _“Let me know how dinner goes after your family falls for him. Night, Lewis.”_

“Will do. Goodnight, _Neil_.”

        Louis leaves his phone on the bathroom counter and takes both kids back to his room, where he’s left their clothes. He gets them ready in half an hour, then takes them to Fizzy’s room so she can watch them while he showers.

        Félicité makes a joke about how Louis would be the perfect dad, because he handled the kids so well so quickly, and he simply winks and pretends he isn’t dying to have kids of his own one day.

        About five years ago, Louis had told an interviewer that kids were definitely in his plans, even as young as he was, and now that he is here, nothing has changed much. It’s not like he feels he’s ready to be a father _right now_ or two months from now. But today, much more than five years ago, Louis feels like he’s ready to start taking steps towards this kind of future. It doesn’t feel so far away anymore. And he isn’t a teenager either.

        He showers, puts on his favorite red shirt and watches the food while his mother gets ready. It’s ten minutes later, when he’s just turned off the stove, that the doorbell rings.

        Louis opens the door and there is Harry. Tall, smiley, fidgety in black skinny jeans and a grey shirt; a red bandana around his neck, and he looks perfect.

        “Why on earth haven’t you been picking up your phone?” Is the first thing he asks.

        “I-” Louis stops. “Shit, sorry, left it in my bathroom earlier when I was handling the kids. ‘M sorry.”

        “I was freaking out, so my mom basically kicked me out of the house.” He looks down, immediately turning crimson.

        “Oh, babe.” Louis hugs him immediately.

        “Hello.” Harry mumbles.

        “Hi.” He smiles and backs away a bit, just to peck Harry’s lips. “Come in, mom’s just about to- oh, they’re here.”

        It’s like a movie scene, and Louis is _sure_ they all orchestrated it. Jay and Fizzy were probably lurking upstairs waiting for when Harry arrived just so they could do this: come down the stairs together and walk in their direction. His family is ridiculous, and Louis loves them aggressively.

        Ernest is welcoming, smiling big. Doris looks distrustful, hiding behind Louis’ teenage sister.

        “Hello there!” Jay waves animatedly. “How are you, dear?” She asks Harry and hugs him as soon as she steps in front of him. Louis looks down and proceeds to finally close the door in order not to cry watching this scene. He is _not_ an emotional mess just because his two favorite people in the world are meeting. He. Is. Not.

        “I’m good, how are you?” Harry replies and Louis looks. He looks and he sees him squeezing his mom tighter in his arms and holy shit, _look away, look away_.

        “Happy to be meeting you.”

        “Likewise.” Harry answers. “Here, brought you these.”

        And- it’s not like Louis hadn’t noticed the flowers in Harry’s hands before. Louis has even seen these flowers before, in Harry’s garden. But it’s another thing completely different to see him handing them to Johanna. The singer’s heart grows three times.

        “Thank you, dear, oh, they’re gorgeous.”

        “What are those, H?” Louis asks, knowing Harry’s dying to say.

        Bandana boy bites his bottom lip and opens a huge smile.

        “ _Bouvardia Double_. Means _enthusiasm_.” He explains. “I’m just really glad to be here.” Harry says then turns his attention to Félicité. “Fizzy, right?” He asks. “Hi.”

        “Hello, Harry Styles.” She says. “I knew you were handsome, but holy smokes, Louis, do you realize what you’ve landed?” His sister jokes.

        “Félicité Tomlinson!” Johanna reprimands her.

        “Teenagers nowadays…” Louis rolls his eyes and starts walking further inside the house; everyone just follows.

        “Thank you? I guess?” Harry laughs lightly.

        “And yes, FYI, I _do_ know what I’ve landed.” The singer ruffles his sister’s hair.

        Jay rolls her eyes.

        “Kids, have you talked to Harry?” She then asks. “Please be polite and give him a kiss, please?” His mom asks.

        Harry drops to his knees and directs himself to Doris first. He comments on her curls and compares their hair. He gets her to smile and hug him in a heartbeat, and Ernest follows suit not even a two seconds later. And Louis… Louis doesn’t know if he’s really screwed or eternally blessed.

 

-

 

        Dinner is… Dinner. They eat and they talk about their days and it isn’t awkward at all. Louis was expecting for it to be at least _a little bit_. But it isn’t. Harry and Jay hit it off as fast as Harry and _Louis_ did, and Fizzy loves him immediately too. The kids even behave and eat everything, because Harry tells them a very convincing story about how important it is to eat vegetables.

        Louis helps Doris and Jay helps Ernest, and together they all eat what they have too, still being pleasant to the guest – Harry, who, to Louis, doesn’t feel like a guest at all. Hasn’t since the first day he set foot in here.

        There’s just something about this space that fits Harry perfectly. Or is it just Harry that fits this space? Louis doesn’t know. The order doesn’t really matter much to him, if he’s being honest. What matters is that Harry _belongs_. He belongs with Louis and he’s starting to belong in his family, and this is all one could ask for, really.

        No amount of money and no packed stadium has ever given him the feeling he is feeling right now. And as dessert comes in and they keep talking about TV shows and whatnot, Louis’ jaw actually starts to hurt, because of how much he’s smiling. He shoves chocolate ice cream in his mouth to try and control his facial expression, and then Jay proceeds to tell a story about Louis and chocolate.

        His mother is perfect. She is. She’s the most amazing woman Louis has ever seen in his entire life, and maybe he is a little bit biased because she raised him like a champ, but so what? Jay is ethereal. She talks and he admires her so much that he doesn’t even have the strength to ask her to _please_ omit the embarrassing details.

        Harry laughs so much that he lets ice cream fall onto his shirt.

        “Jesus Christ, I’m worse than the toddlers.” He comments.

        “Don’t I know?!” Louis snorts. Then he remembers the shirt Harry is wearing. “Hey, Ernie.” He calls his little brother’s attention. “Can you tell me what color Harry’s shirt is?”

 _“Lou-eh.”_ Harry grumbles in complaint.

        “Gwe-g _rrr_ ey?” He asks.

        “Good boy. What about you, Doris?”

        “Grey.” She answers.

        “Mom?”

        “Isn’t it… Grey?” Johanna frowns.

        Louis only looks at Fizzy.

        “Grey.” She answers. “Why?”

        “Baby, can you tell my family what color you think your shirt is?” The singer asks in the softest of voices, placing a hand on Harry’s thigh under the table and rubbing a soothing circle there with his thumb. He always does that, so often it’s a thing now. A habit.

        Harry looks down. Then he answers.

        “Dark white.” He says bashfully.

        Everyone erupts in laughter, including the children, and Louis leans over, kissing him on the cheek.

        “I’m in love with an idiot.” He says just for Harry to hear.

        And Harry, bless him, doesn’t even flinch.

        “This idiot is in love with you too.” He answers and opens the biggest, most alluring smile in the world.

        Louis _has_ to kiss him right there.

 

-

 

Fizzy offers to do the dishes and Harry follows her to the kitchen saying he’ll help while Louis and Jay take the children to bed. Before they do that, though, they go say goodnight to their sister and Harry, and Louis’ heart almost explodes when Bandana Boy gets on his knees, expecting a hug from each of Louis’ smaller siblings.

        _Be cool, Louis. Those are not your children._

        “Why don’t you want to give me a hug?” Harry asks Ernest, who refuses to accept his embrace. Ernest simply shakes his head; Harry pouts and pokes his tummy. Ernie takes a step back and Harry follows him, still on his knees. “Not even a teeny-tiny one?” He presses. “Are you sure?” He pokes Ernest’s tummy again and the boy gives in and giggles.

        “Hug him,” Doris mumbles impatient, holding Louis’ hand and swaying it back and forth. She’s really smart and she reminds him a lot of Charlotte when she was still a toddler; she doesn’t take Ernest’s bullshit, not ever, and it’s the funniest thing.

        “C’mon, puppet. Hug Harry so you can go to bed and snuggle your stuffed animals…”

        “It’s all right, I’ll live…” Harry looks down and starts to get up when Louis’ brother grabs him by the arm, hugging Harry sideways and almost making him fall over. “That’s more like it!” Harry smiles over Ernest’s shoulder when he regains his balance.

        He gets up with Ernie still in his arms and Louis takes Doris in his, just so the kids can be the same height. If his heart leaps up again then nobody needs to know – even though he has a feeling his mom does, by the way she’s eyeing him.

        Harry looks at him with a huge grin on his face. Then shows Louis’ his tongue.

        “Bad ‘Arry!” Doris scolds him and he throws his head back with laughter.

        “I’m sorry, Doris, your brother made me do it.”

        “I-” Louis starts to defend himself, but his sister has already hit him on the forehead by the time he gets the first word out.

        “Okay, that’s enough. Bed!” Jay says and Harry kisses the kids one more time.

        “It was amazing meeting you too. See you again soon, okay?”

        “How soon?” Fizzy asks from her place by the sink and smirks.

        “How long are you guys staying?”

        “We don’t know.” Jay answers.

        “However long you’d like.” Louis says. “You have the weekend off, don’t you?” He asks Harry and the boy nods. “So, you’ll see him soon.” The singer smiles, and doesn’t say that he never goes longer than a day without seeing Harry.

        Bandana Boy gives the children _another_ kiss on their foreheads and then finally hands Ernest to Jay, saying he’ll be here helping Fizzy when they come back. Louis is only half-worried about leaving him with his teenage sister, but he had promised Doris that he’d put her and Ernest to bed and read them a story every night they were here. Louis isn’t one for breaking promises.

        He and his mom go through the same ritual they’ve always done when it was just the two of them and the other girls, and it’s peaceful, quiet… Very, very nice, and it’s one of the many reasons as to why Louis has always wanted build a family. Even if it’s tiring and can sometimes become a bit overwhelming, times like these make him think how worthwhile it all is.

        There’s something very pure and simple about children – about putting them to sleep after a long day and knowing that tomorrow is going to be brand new for them. Children, unlike adults, do not carry the weight of the world as if it is theirs; on the contrary, they make the world seem weightless at times, and Louis believes that raising small people and sharing that sentiment with someone else has got to be pretty special.

        Jay makes the bed while Louis changes their clothes, and then the four of them climb together on the king size, snuggling as close as possible. Louis reads Cinderella tonight, and has an amused smile on his face when he remembers how much Phoebe and Daisy hated it; they’ve always been way too independent for princesses, they said.

        “Hey, mom- how’re Daisy and Phoebs?” He asks when he’s sure the toddlers are sound asleep.

        “They’re fine. Growing really fast. I’ll call them tomorrow and we can all have a chat.” His mom answers.

        “That’d be good; I miss them.” He says as something tugs in his heart. Being away is not always easy. “I’ll try to visit in a couple of months.”

        “They would love that.” His mom smiles.

        Slowly, they get up from the bed and turn off the lights completely, leaving the door ajar. In the corridor, Johanna stops him, both hands on his shoulders as she seriously stares at him.

        “That boy downstairs is so gone for you, Lou.” She smiles big. “And I know you are for him too, and I just want to say that- that this is really special, yeah?” He blushes instantly. “I know that you know, and you’re not stupid, it’s just my job to say… Don’t let him get away. You’re… You’re beautiful, together.”

        Louis hugs her before he realizes it.

        “Thanks for liking him, mum.” He mumbles in the crook of her neck.

        “He’s not very hard to fall in love with now is he?” She jokes.

        “No. No, he isn’t.”

        When they get downstairs, Harry and Félicité have already done all the dishes and are sat on the kitchen island playing scrabble. Harry has a glass of wine in hands while Fizzy has a bottle of water by her side, but is fully concentrated on the game. Louis and Jay join them and take their places at the island as well.

        The singer sits by Harry’s side and rests his head on his shoulder, and Harry immediately hands him his glass of wine, which Louis sips from and returns to him. Harry kisses his forehead and goes back to the game, making fun of Félicité for coming up with a ridiculous word ( _“you are so much like Louis!”_ ). Louis thinks that this moment right there is one of the most important of his life – the quietness and simplicity of it all.

        The feeling of having someone like _Harry_ getting along with his family, drinking wine together and having the approval of his mother. The idea that so many people search so hard for what Louis found by chance – or maybe by fate. The hope that this is the first of many times he will feel his heart swell with pride and happiness and so many good things that are indescribable because Louis has never ever felt like this before.

        If he could, he’d bottle up this night; he’d catalogue the way Jay tries to help Fizzy on the next round and Harry all but slaps her hand from the board, scolding Louis’ mom for cheating and _“this family is a lost cause”_ , making Johanna laugh louder than Louis has heard in a while, and respond with _“shut up and drink your wine”_. If his eyes get watery, Louis will never admit it.

       

        It’s nearing midnight when Harry says he needs to go, because he promised he’d have breakfast with his father tomorrow. Louis stiffens when he says it, but Harry doesn’t acknowledge it in front of his mother and sister, just hugs them tight and thanks them for a wonderful, wonderful night. He is _so_ polite. Louis wants to keep him forever.

        They walk – lamely – hand in hand towards Louis’ front door, and Harry tells him he rode the motorcycle here.

        “You’re sure you’re gonna be safe? You can sleep here and get up really early.” The singer offers.

        “I’m sure, babe.” Harry sighs, then rests his back against the front porch wall, a relaxed and apparently permanent smile on his face. He raises one hand to brush Louis’ fringe off his forehead and Louis takes one step ahead, connecting them from head to toe. “I loved tonight,” the boy then says.

        “Tonight was…” Louis looks at him. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He says and hugs Harry, who promptly hugs him back. “Thank you, H. This all means so, so much.”

        “To me, too.” Harry says. “I love you, Louis.” He whispers.

        Louis doesn’t even choke when he replies, even though there might be some tears coming out of his eyes.

        “I love you too.” He sniffles. “I’m very much in love with you, and it’s a bit scary.”

        “It’s scary for me too.” Harry grins, and then pecks Louis’ lips. “I’m scared once your break is over you’re gonna go all over the world and find someone so much better than me…” He trails.

        “I’ve _been_ all over the world, Hazz.” Louis says. “There has never been anyone like you. I don’t think there ever will be.” It’s true. God, it’s so, so true.

One Harry Styles is already too much for this world anyways, Louis thinks. This planet has _a lot_ of work to do until it deserves another human being like this.

        “Come here,” Louis pulls him in and Harry goes without any resistance.  

       The first brush of their lips is innocent, but that’s about it. Louis presses Harry to the wall in a teasing, hot way, and Harry takes his demands as they come. He adjusts his body against the wall and parts his legs so Louis can fit better between them, and opens his mouth for Louis’ skilled tongue.      

        Louis _knows_ they’re acting like two teenagers now, making out while his mom is inside still awake, but he doesn’t pull away; he loses himself in the kiss until he can no longer remember a world exists outside the two of them. He smiles in the middle of it and Harry ends up kissing his teeth, and it’s funny and loving and still hot, because this is Harry and everything with Harry is hot.

        Bandana Boy clasps both hands on either side of Louis’ face and kisses him one more time before pushing Louis away.

        “Stop before I get hard, I have to ride a _motorcycle_ home.” He reminds Louis, who chuckles and kisses his cheek, then his neck.

        Louis takes the opportunity to say:

        “Wish you were riding _me_ right now,” right in his ear.

        Harry shivers.

        “I’m going!” He announces and Louis chuckles, nodding and letting him go, finally.

        Harry, however, comes back again and kisses him, caging _Louis_ against the wall. The singer thinks this was his plan all along.

        “I love that you’re a bit smaller than me.” He says.

        “Really?” His breath is ragged. “I hadn’t noticed…” He muses, pulls Harry close and kisses him one more time. “Go, love.”

        “I will, I will.” Harry nods. “Hey- if your mom and Fizz want to go out and have a girl’s day in LA or something, I can get them discounts at literally any store…”

       “Yeah?”       

        “Yes. There’s this… Code thing, with my name? Because of my mom. Anyways, let them know. Plus, we could watch the kids.” He smiles brightly.

        “Harry Styles… Where did you come from?” Louis takes a deep breath.

        “My mother’s womb, Louis, obviously.”

        The singer burst out a laugh.

        “You’re ridiculous. I love you.” He says.

       “I love you too.” Harry says and squeezes his hand.       

        “Lemme know when you get home.”

        “Will do.” He assures him. “Bye, Lou.”

        “Bye, love.” Louis says and lets him go, missing his warmth already.

        _Jesus Christ, what have I gotten myself into?_

 

 

-

 

 

They’re two months into their relationship when Louis says something dumb. He doesn’t think, is the thing, but when he realizes it, it’s already come out of this mouth. And it’s not even like didn’t mean it, it’s just… He could’ve been less of an asshole when saying it.

Thing is, Harry is living by himself. He left his mother’s house and moved into this tiny apartment a bit too far away from the city and from his university, and as his classes start, he complains literally every day about where he lives. Plus, there is no air conditioning there. And no bed, either.

        Louis visits him often, even sleeps on his shitty mattress on the floor, because Louis loves him. But tonight is especially hot, and Harry is especially grumpy, and Louis is especially tired.

        He’s just come back from New York where he and the other boys had a shitty meeting. Turns out they need to release another album by the middle of next year, which means all of their projects are about to be put on hold so they can focus on the band.

        It’s not a horrible thing; the industry is just frustrating sometimes, and they need to keep up with it in order to keep doing the things they love. Sometimes it means not having proper vacations, sometimes it means not getting their way, but, as Niall often says, they’re all better off this way. None of them wants to live in a world where One Direction doesn’t exist, so they take the short period of “time off” they get, the long meetings and even longer flights across the world, and they make gold of it.

        Point is: Louis is emotionally and mentally tired. Even a bit hungover, because Zayn convinced him it was a great idea to go out the night before. And Harry is exhausted too, waking up way too early to go to college and then working and then driving in bumper to bumper traffic to get back to his apartment. So, neither of them is very patient, and it gets accentuated when the lights go out. Because it’s _just_ their luck.

        “Fuck.” Harry swears one minute after they sit in complete silence, hoping for the lights to come back up again. “Fuck, fuck.” He throws his glass at the wall, scaring the shit out of Louis.

        “Are you insane?” Louis asks, his whisper resonating in the room. He gets up and moves to open the window.

        It’s a bit better, but he can only see Harry’s silhouette still.

        Harry doesn’t answer him, so Louis presses.

        “C’mon, we can go to my place, I’m sure there’s light there.” Louis gets up and takes his phone out of his pocket, ready to turn the lantern on.

        “No.” His boyfriend answers.

        “What?”

        “I need to stay here.”

        “Why?” The singer frowns.

        “Because.”

        “H, don’t be ridiculous,” Louis sighs. “Let’s go, please, I’m hungry.”

        “You go, Louis. Get something to eat. ‘M staying.”

        “Okay.” He says. “Why?”

        “This is where I live, and I quite like it, even if you hate it, and it has its problems, but-” Louis is almost sure Harry shrugs. “It is what it is.”

        “Harry, I don’t hate it- but there’s literally _no light_ right now, so…”

        “You do, and it’s fine. But it’s what I can afford, and I’m sorry it isn’t up to your millionaire standards-”

        Louis snorts and laughs, almost at the same time.

        “You fucking _kidding_ me?” He asks, anger starting to build up inside of him.

        “No, I’m not. You’ve made it pretty clear you think my apartment is a shithole in the last few weeks, Louis, but I’m a college student, this is how it’s _supposed_ to be, so please-”

        “You really are out of your mind!” The singer rolls his eyes even though he knows Harry can’t see. “Can you even _hear_ yourself? You’ve got money coming out of your ass, Harry, and the only reason you don’t use it is because you’re a _baby_ who thinks he’s got something to prove to his parents, but you keep making idiotic choices. So _please_ , take a much needed look in the mirror before saying that _I’m_ the one who has a problem with this place because of _my_ millionaire standards.”

        And. There it is. The thing he should’ve thought through more before vomiting out in the world.

        “Wow, Louis, do get it off of your chest.” His boyfriend responds coldly.

        “I just did.” He sighs, even more tiredly. “Now grab some clothes, we’re going.”

        “We’re _not_.”

        “ _Yes_ , we are. Because even though you are an _idiot_ , you are _my_ idiot and I love you, and this place feels like _hell_ , because it’s hot as fuck and now you don’t even have a fan. You have a quiz in the morning and work in the afternoon, and I am _not_ about to let you have a sleepless night.”

        “I- we just-”

        “If you haven’t noticed, I have many spare rooms in my millionaire mansion, so if you’re really pissed at me, please feel free to take one of them.” Louis says. “I’ll be waiting for you in the car. Don’t take too long.”

        Louis walks down three floors – because of course this building doesn’t have an elevator – and gets in his car, already turning on the AC and sighing blissfully as the cool air hits his face. He just wants to get home, take a cold shower and go to bed.

        Harry takes ten minutes to come downstairs, and Louis knows that the better part of his time was spent pouting in the middle of his apartment, because that’s _such_ a Harry thing to do. Louis would be amused if he wasn’t angry with him.

        When his boyfriend does get into the car, he is silent. Harry throws his backpack in the backseat and buckles up staring ahead. Louis sighs once more and starts driving, knowing that they have at least half an hour until they get to his place.

        Harry dozes off five minutes into the drive, so Louis turns down the radio and pets his hair twice, just because he _has_ to. When they get to his house, Louis wakes him up as kindly as he can, but leaves the car before Harry does, walking towards the back door and turning on the kitchen light.

        “D’you want to eat something?” He asks when Harry comes in.

        “Maybe. Do I have to cook?”

        “No, Harry, I’m not _totally_ useless in the kitchen. You can shower, I’ll make something.” Louis tells him and Harry doesn’t argue.

        When he comes back, he looks like he’s cried. Harry’s skin looks clean and his hair looks fluffy, but he’s got bloodshot eyes and Louis hates himself for it. Seriously, his heart crumbles the second Harry steps back into the kitchen and, well. Louis has never been one to be able to handle fights – he’s not about to.

        “Hazz,” he voices weakly.

        “Let’s eat first, yeah?”

        “Kay.” Louis mumbles and hands Harry a plate.

        It’s not the best thing in the world, but it’s what he’s managed in half an hour. Plus, he knows for a fact that pasta is one of the things he knows how to make best, so it wasn’t really a hard decision.

        “It was really good, Lou, thanks.” Harry offers when he finishes, and gets up to go to the fridge.

He comes back with orange juice for him and a coke for Louis.

        “No problem,” Louis offers back.

        “You shouldn’t have talked to me like that.” Is what Harry says next, eyes fixated on Louis.

        “I shouldn’t have.” He acknowledges.

        “I was a tit, too.”

        “You were.” Louis voices. “Look, whatever I said… It came out really wrong. I’m sorry for that. Doesn’t mean it’s not what I think, H.” Carefully, the singer gives him his opinion. “You’re trying so hard to prove something that literally no one is asking you to. And it’s just so dumb to sacrifice yourself like that. And a bit hypocritical, too.”

        “Please, keep the compliments coming.” Harry snorts.

        “Babe.” Louis smiles. “You’re one of the best people I know, Harry. And, to some extent, I understand what you’re doing. But when I was a poor teenager, I used to hate guys like you.”

        “Guys like me?”

        “Yeah. People who had it all and pretended that they didn’t, like some kind of martyr. I mean, I know you didn’t ask for this life and all this money, but it was _given_ to you, and instead of doing something with it you just… Reject it? And in the name of what?”

        “You _know_ I feel like I don’t deserve it.” Harry says. “And it’s really dirty of you to throw it in my face like that.”

        “No, H, I’m not throwing it in your face. I’m telling you as your boyfriend that rejecting your wealth is no way to deserve it.” He shrugs. “With your name and your money, you could be doing wonders for kids who grew up like I did. You could take part in so many great projects, and charities and whatnot. Still, you choose to have a job your family hates and live in a place _you_ hate… And I don’t get it.”

        Harry sighs loudly.

        “I had an argument with my mom earlier today about the same thing. She said I wouldn’t last in that flat, and would run out of there the first time something happened. She was so angry with me. And then you went and said the same things as her, only when you did it… I don’t know. It hit a nerve.”

        “I’m sorry, babe.” Louis says. “I’m sorry.”

        “And I know how you grew up, and that you’d never belittle someone for where they live or anything like that.” Harry continues.

        “Thank you,” he replies.

        “D’you really think I’m a hypocrite?”

        “No.” Louis says. “But your actions… Maybe. And they don’t define you, we… We do dumb things sometimes, cause we’re still young. _You’re_ so young. Just- just think it over, and if in the morning you still feel like what you’re doing is what you need to keep doing, then you can tell me to shove it and shut up and I’ll love you just as much.”

        “I think… I think _mostly_ I don’t want my mom to be right.” Harry confesses.

        “But don’t you get it, Harry? Moms are almost always right.”

        “My mom is not like your mom, Louis. She wants me to prove her wrong, I think.”

        “No, H. She wants you to be happy. And she thinks living with little to no money is what you want because you made her believe so.” Louis smiles lightly.

        “Maybe.” His boyfriend replies and then yawns.

        “You should go to bed, you got class in the morning.”

        “Shit- I came in your car, I’ll have to take a bus tomorrow…”

        “You can take my car; I’ve nowhere to be tomorrow.”

        “You sure?”

        “Yes, Harry. I’m sure. Now go to bed, I’ll wash the dishes- and don’t argue with me.” He warns. “Good night.”

        Harry nods.

        “Night, Lou. Thank you for letting me stay over after we, hm, fought.”

        “You’re welcome.” He says.

        Harry gets up and helps Louis put the dishes in the sink, but other than that he just drops a soft kiss to his temple and goes upstairs.

        Louis does have a dishwasher, and he uses it whenever he’s feeling lazy, but most of the time he likes washing dishes. He puts his phone on the counter and asks _Siri_ to play something he likes – and the robot instantly comes up with some Kodaline – and slowly washes the plates and cutlery.

        He takes his time and only accelerates the process when his back starts to hurt a bit; he laughs quietly at the thought of Harry telling him to practice some yoga, because it was the only thing that helped him with his bad back, and isn’t it funny that two fit young men have terrible backs? Oh well.

        When he enters his room, around eleven pm, Harry’s already fast asleep on his bed. Louis could swear that Harry _was_ going to take up on his offer of staying in the guest bedroom, at least for tonight, but that boy is full of surprises – some pleasant, some not so much, but if tonight’s (stupid) fight has done anything to Louis, it showed him that he’s in it for rainy days as well. Good to know.

        Louis showers and goes through his night routine silently, and only goes to bed once he’s made sure to plug his phone on the charger and set his alarm for six thirty am – knowing Harry, the boy probably forgot to do so before falling asleep.

        His side of the mattress is cold, so he does the only logical thing, which is to scoot closer to the middle so he can fit himself against Harry’s back. His boyfriend stirs awake only for a second and says _I didn’t want to sleep without you_ , and after he says it, and goes back to sleep as peacefully as before, Louis realizes another thing: if it is up to him, Harry will never have to.

 

-

 

        “You’re shit, Malik, you have no idea what you’re in for!” Louis yells at his friend who’s sat right beside him.

        “Louis, I’m winning two to one, the hell you’re talking about?” Zayn laughs it off and starts the game once again.

        “You’re about to go down, is what I’m talking about.” He says. Zayn is dreaming if he thinks he’ll win this round. “Best out of five.”

        “Says who?”

        “I do. My house, my videogame, my fucking rules.”

        “You just suck at losing!” His bandmate accuses him.

        “How _dare_ you?” Louis fakes outrage, but focuses back on the game. He’ll be damned if he loses now.

       

        When he scores his second goal, Harry arrives. He hears the front gate opening and the car getting into the garage, but Zayn doesn’t seem to notice anything, too focused on turning this match around; which is when Harry enters the game room. Zayn’s surprised and looks up to greet him, and Louis takes the opportunity to score the third consecutive goal, two minutes before this game is finally over.

        “IN YOUR FACE, LOSER. Two to two!” He laughs at Zayn’s face. “Hi, Harold!” He then turns around on the couch.

        Harry has his backpack still hanging from one shoulder as he stares at them both amusedly, the hint of a smile on his face.

        “Hello, Lou.” He says. “Sorry I distracted you, Zayn, I’ll be out of your hair.”

        “Nah, mate, I’ll go!” Zayn gets up.

        “No, stay,” Harry smiles. “I’ll shower and then make some dinner cause I’m starving… You can get back at Louis _and_ eat proper food, what d’you say?”

        “That you came from heaven, Styles.” Louis’ friend smiles happily. He then turns to his friend. “You’re on, bastard.”

        “I’m gonna win next round too,” he says, “just gimme a sec.”

        Louis gets up from the couch and walks towards Harry. Zayn keeps himself busy, checking his phone, and Louis hugs his boyfriend as if it’s been months and not hours since they last saw each other.

        “Hey,” he says before kissing him. It’s dry and chaste, but a bit long. “How was your day?”

        “Better than yesterday,” Harry replies,

        “Okay. Thanks for telling Zayn to stay.”

        “It’s your house, Lou. And he’s one of your best friends.”

        “I know, but- you know.”

        “We can talk later, yeah?” Harry kisses his forehead. “Now go win the round otherwise you’ll be grumpy.”

        “Are you implying I am a sore loser?”

        “You know you are.” He winks.

        Louis slaps him in the shoulder.

        “Hey, Hazz? I love you.”

        “Love you too.” Harry kisses him one more time and then disappears into the house.

        To no one’s surprise, thank you very much, Louis _wins_ the next round _and_ the competition. And _Zayn_ is the grumpy one. Fucking please.

        They put away the video game and then decide to go outside for a smoke and a beer before dinner. Zayn tells Louis they should go stay with Harry in the kitchen, but Louis assures him that Harry doesn’t mind.

        “He doesn’t really like people around him when he’s cooking,” Louis says. “He never asks me to leave, but I know I annoy him when I get in his way.”

        “He’s good to you, you know?” Zayn tells him and Louis arches an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. “I realized it this week, in New York. You’re… Different, but- not really?”

        “You lost me, mate.”

        “People always change when they’re in relationships. Often, they become versions of the people they’re dating, and it never ends well. Looking back now, it’s exactly what happened to Pezza and me.” He takes a drag, waits for a bit, then exhales the smoke. “I tried to be more of a ‘people person’ because that’s how she is, and at times she’d act like a recluse person, because… That’s how I am.”

        “What are you saying?”

        “Harry didn’t really change you, he just made you… _More_.” His bandmate tells him. “I’m really glad I was wrong about him, because you, Louis Tomlinson, are the happiest bastard in this entire planet right now. And as if you weren’t already one of the best people I’ve ever met, you went and got even better.”

        If Louis were drunk, he’d sure as hell be crying right now. As it is, he puts out his cigarette and hugs Zayn. In his defense, his friend doesn’t pull away – and that says a lot, for someone who doesn’t really enjoy physical contact.

        “Thanks, mate.” He says and steps back. “Sometimes I feel so in love I want to pull my hair out of my head, because I don’t know what to do.”

        At that, Zayn cracks up a laugh.

        “Good- that’s good. We’re going to need some mushy shit for the next album, after all it can’t all be about my heartbreak and Niall’s one night stands, now can it?”

        “You’re horrible.” Louis chuckles. “Wait- if I’m going to write the mushy songs, Niall the sex ones and you the dark ones… What does that leave Liam with?”

        “Hopefully, with only the melodies. We all know what a disaster he is when it comes to writing…”

        “Zayn, you are _the worst!_ ” He accuses his friend just as he’s putting out his cigarette as well. “And Liam _does_ have his moments; he comes up with great rhymes.” The singer defends his other friend.

        “Yeah, yeah, well… Just promise me you won’t leave him alone in a writing session for this next one, okay?” Zayn says, Louis laughs. “Mate, I’m serious.”

        “I promise. Jesus.” And, well, he’ll only be doing everyone a favor – he knows.

       

        One cigarette later and another conversation about when they’ll drag their asses back to the studio, Harry calls from Louis’ kitchen saying that dinner is ready. Since there are three of them and Louis is feeling in the mood, the singer sets the table and helps his boyfriend carry everything to the dining room.

        Zayn asks Harry about college and Harry tells him the basics about business and law school, and as Harry answers his questions as graciously as ever, Louis can’t believe how smart he is.

        “I wanna go to college at some point,” Zayn says, “study literature and all…”

        “I know,” Harry says before he can stop himself.

        “How?” Zayn squints his eyes.

        “He used to watch One Direction interviews when he was crushing on me,” Louis fake-whispers.

        “Seriously?” Louis’ friend laughs unabashedly.

        “Can we _please_ go back to the main topic?” Harry asks. “You want to study literature…”

        “Yeah, yeah- even applied to a few schools in the UK, but then management fucked us over again, so.” He shrugs.

        “What?” Harry asks.

        Zayn looks at Louis.

        “I didn’t really have the time to tell him about it,” Louis tells Zayn in a small voice, then looks at Harry apologetically. “Basically, management’s calling off our break and we have a little over six months to put another album together, start promo, talk tour dates… The whole shenanigan.”

        _“What?”_ Harry asks again. “They can’t do that.”

        “They totally can, mate,” Zayn tells him. “We’re all a bit pissed off, but- it’ll pass. I might even _kind of miss_ seeing these assholes on a daily basis.”

        “Cheers, mate,” Louis smiles and takes a sip of wine.

        “I’m sorry, Lou, I didn’t know.” His boyfriend looks at him guiltily.

        “Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.” He says.

        Zayn looks between them, but doesn’t say anything, instead, he keeps telling Harry about his plans, and that maybe he’ll start some online courses to get ahead. Harry tries to persuade him to go to UCLA, but Louis’ bandmate only laughs it off, saying that he only wants to go to university in London.

        They chit chat for a long time, and Louis only participates in the conversation when they ask his opinion about something. Other than that, he sits back, drinks, and watches the person he’s in love with getting along with yet another person that means the world to him.

        He doesn’t know what he did to get this lucky in life, but you won’t hear him complaining any time soon.

        Late at night, when Zayn’s gone, the dishwasher is loaded and they’ve both showered, Louis lazily gets into bed planning to watch some TV, but Harry asks if they can finally talk – and, they’re good. But Louis agrees that there’s more to be said. So he puts his laptop away and tells his boyfriend to get into bed already.

        “Okay,” Louis smiles, “let’s talk.”

        “But first-” Harry shoves Louis on his back and he is only half surprised when his boyfriend knocks the wind out of his lungs by kissing him like they haven’t in over a week – before Louis went to NYC.

        Harry doesn’t ask for permission when he tangles their tongues and makes them dance in his own rhythm, pressing down on Louis as if any distance between them is unbearable at this moment. Louis presses both hands on Harry’s neck and hugs him with his legs, making sure his boyfriend knows he’s missed him just as much.

        They know the kiss isn’t going anywhere, but they still enjoy every second of it. Harry kisses Louis reverentially and Louis does his best to kiss him back the same way – he loves him; he loves him so much his heart _aches_ , even when they are together like this.

        Harry is Christmas morning, crimson fireworks and birthday wishes altogether. He is everything, _everything_ , and Louis needs him to know it.

        “H.” He stops him. “Hazz…”

        “Yes?”

        “I want to say that I love you, but- the way I’m feeling right now… Harry, I think I’m going to have to write you a couple of songs just so you’ll understand how much,” he says and his boyfriend climbs off his body, a lazy expression on his face and a huge smile on his red lips (which are even redder after their kiss). Christ, he’s so beautiful.

        “I’m fine with that.” Harry says. “Write me all the songs in the world.”

        “I just might.” Louis promises, sitting across from him on the bed. They both chuckle. “So.”

        “So.” Harry breathes out.

        “About last night…”

        “I gave up the apartment at lunchtime.” Harry cuts him off.

        “What?”

        “I said you hated it because it was easier than saying _I_ hated it. And it was childish to stay there just so my mom wouldn’t be right.” He states. Louis smiles, he’s so proud of him. “I also quit my job at the club.”

        “Hazz, I didn’t-”

        “It wasn’t you, Louis, it was time.” He sighs. “Okay. It was _a little bit_ you. But I didn’t do it because you told me to, I did it because you opened my eyes to something I hadn’t realized yet.” The singer waits for Harry to continue. So he does. “I talked to one of my professors today… She offered me an internship at a legal clinic… Students don’t usually take it because it’s unpaid, but, like you so cleverly pointed out,  I have money coming out of my ass, so-”

        Louis laughs. Harry does too, and then takes the singer’s hand.

        “The clinic takes mostly divorce cases, and even though it’s not what I plan to work with, I feel like I need to do it, because it’s a good thing, right? So many kids get stuck between two parents, divorces are always so messy… I just thought, I don’t know. It’s gonna be good to actually help people.”

        Louis is almost sure he’s got stars in his eyes right now.

        “I’m so proud of you.” He hugs him quickly. “That’s gonna be awesome, plus, you really are going to help people! You’ll feel so good about it! And you’re _so_ smart, so…”

        “Thanks, babe.” Harry smiles shyly. “For, you know, everything. You… You make me better.”

        “Funny…” Louis muses. “Zayn told me earlier that _you_ make _me_ better.” He smiles too. “You’re welcome. For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision, and your parents are going to be super happy… Which is _not_ a bad thing, okay?”

        “Okay…” Harry chuckles. “Zayn’s an interesting guy. I like him a lot.”

        “You’d better. He’s me, only darker. I literally cannot imagine my life without him.”

        “Have you two ever…”

        “No, Harold!” He answers too quickly. “Okay, once… But we were really drunk and laughed it off as soon as we did it.”

        “Oh my God, you _did it_?”

        “No, not all the way. Just blowies, I think.” Louis laughs. “Can’t believe I’m telling you this, we swore to _never ever_ mention it, it’s too embarrassing. Can we go back to how much _we_ love each other? Please? Thank you.”

        “Yes.” He laughs. “Yes, we can.” Harry says.

        “I’m scared, H.” Louis confesses looking down. “We’re going back to work soon and I feel like we- you and me, we won’t see each other as much, and that sucks a _lot_.”

        “Baby…”

        “We always record at least part of the albums in Sweden. And there are lots of sessions scheduled in London, and- yeah, there are some here, but… I don’t know. I sometimes miss you after a _day_ , what am I gonna do when I am constantly _not_ seeing you? I’m so worried.”

        “Weren’t you the one who told me _not_ to worry once?”

        “Because you were worried about me finding someone out there,” Louis scoffs at the ridiculous possibility. “I’m worried about being lonely again.”

        “Oh, Lou…” Harry squeezes his hand. “This is _so not_ going to happen. Even if we don’t see each other every day, we’ll _talk_ every day, yeah?”

        “Yeah.”

        “And there’s still some time before you have to travel, right?”

        “Yes. But, just- you know, hypothetically… Would you go to London with me for the holidays?” He asks, butterflies in his stomach, a glint in his eyes.

        “Louis Tomlinson…” Harry starts. “I’d go to the ends of the earth with you.” He says, then kisses him. “But yes, let’s start with London, it’s been a while since the last time I was there...”

        “Okay.” The singer takes a deep breath. “Okay, that’ll be awesome.”

        “Yes.” Harry chuckles. “It will.”

        They fuck twice that night. First, Louis rides Harry in the middle of the bed, and their sweaty bodies slide against one another in an erotic way; Louis feels each and every drag of Harry inside of him and thinks whatever heaven is like, it can’t be much better than this. The second time, Harry bends him over and drives into him harshly, pulling on Louis’ short strands of hair and giving it to him as fast as humanly possible. Louis is surprised when he orgasms, and tells Harry to keep going till his boyfriend comes inside of him.

        Later that night, they’re both a bit cold because of the air conditioner and way too sleepy to watch a movie, so Harry traps Louis’ feet between his ankles as Louis rests his head on his boyfriend’s chest, drawing patterns on his stomach with the tip of his fingers underneath the covers.

        Harry’s silent for a long time, and Louis thinks he’s asleep, but then his boyfriend speaks lowly; Louis’ entire body shivers, and it has nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

        “I have completely fallen for you.” He whispers into the dark. “Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. You’re my first thought in the morning, you’re my last thought before I fall asleep, and you’re almost every thought in between.” His arms tighten around Louis, and Louis kisses his chest, then rests his head there again.

        _Be cool, Louis_ , his brain warns him as Bandana Boy falls asleep. _You’re home, at last._

 

-

 

They go public by accident. Well, kind of. It’s really Niall’s fault.

He posts a picture with Harry one day in early November when Louis is at a writing session, and tags Louis saying he’s having some quality time with his _boyfriend_. Next thing Louis knows, he’s walking out of the studio and there are dozens of paps asking him about Harry Styles and for how long they’ve been dating.

It’s a PR nightmare, he thinks. And Harry, who always loves to stay as far from the media as possible, actually _enjoys_ it, the cretin! He posts a picture of them on his Instagram, respecting his aesthetic, of course, and uses a _One Direction_ song as his caption.

 _Nobody loves you, baby, the way I do_.

Louis’ team goes crazy. Harry’s parents make him get his own manager. They laugh it off and, later that night, Louis posts a picture holding Harry’s hand, and his caption says: _I think I’m gonna win this time._

But oh, who is he kidding?

He’s already won.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, all the love in the entire world.  
> M.
> 
> twitter: [ifmelcouldfly](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly/with_replies)  
> tumblr: [treat people with kindness](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com)


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